Pick
by Eltanin Rose
Summary: All Hermione wanted was a night of fun. Instead she got a rock star. No magic, all Muggle. Modern era. AU.
1. Intro: Avada Kedavra

**Summary:** All Hermione wanted was a night of fun. Instead she got a rock star. No magic, all Muggle. Modern era. AU.

 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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 _Betaed by the lovely TheUnrealInsomniac_

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 **Pick**

Intro: Avada Kedavra

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 _Sia - Chandelier_

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She was dying.

There was no other explanation for the overwhelming pain she was currently experiencing.

Really, she was in the lowest circle of hell. This, Hermione knew, was what Dante had tried and failed to describe because words for this level of torment could not possibly exist.

Her mouth was dry. Her head was aching and her stomach churned in the most disgusting way.

She wanted to vomit and she sat up straighter, her eyes shot open as she took deep breaths. Thick streams of saliva coated the back of her throat and her eyes watered as she began to gag.

The brunette shut her eyes. Mind over matter she told herself. She'd never vomited while drunk and she was hell-bent on not breaking that record. It was a matter of pride and honour. Being sick was not an option.

Deep breaths. Mind over matter.

She was in control.

It took her longer than usual but thankfully she managed it in the end. She wouldn't have to lose her title as Queen of the Drink nor would she have to lie to keep it. Having a naturally high alcohol tolerance wasn't much of an achievement but it guaranteed one of two things, a certain level of respect from her mates and the unlikely chance that she'd make an arse of herself. Usually it was her telling tales of people's embarrassing drunk misdeeds.

This time however, she had a horrible sinking feeling she'd fucked up.

 _Damn Vegas. Damn New Year. Damn alcohol._

Going by the unholy headache she was having, she'd gotten well and truly pissed.

She tried to recall what she'd done and drank only to come up empty.

The last thing she remembered was dancing with the twins and Lavender as the countdown to the New Year began. Parvati had been in charge of getting the bubbly for midnight and had come back with a bright green liquid in a test tube instead. A black and yellow hazard sign on the long glass. It'd looked like absinthe and when a drunk Lavender had complained, the eldest twin had defended her choice in drink.

 _It's not absinthe,_ she'd shouted over the rapidly growing noise and excitement. _It's that new drink that's been all over the news. Avada Kedavra, The Killer Drink? The one that people are trying to make illegal._

'Avada Kedavra,' she groaned under her breath, her face scrunched up with regret and shame.

And pain.

A lot, _a lot_ of pain.

Her head was pounding. Even her teeth were throbbing and Jesus-fucking-Christ was she thirsty.

Never again, she swore. If this was what rebellion felt like then she would have no more of it.

They'd all taken their respective shot when midnight arrived and had then proceeded to be kissed by every person within arm's reach.

The alcohol in her system potent, successfully numbing the fear of potential STDs as lips and tongues were smooshed against her own ... and that was it. That was the last thing she remembered.

Being snogged by drunk Americans.

 _Charming._

Hermione opened her eyes and leant against her cushioned seat with a frown. She did not like this blacking out thing. If indeed it was that. She highly suspected it but she wouldn't know, she'd never been that level of drunk before and had never experienced this.

The brunette shut her eyes as her body began to demand rest. Her seat was far too comfortable to ignore and the hum of the plane only encouraged the idea. She ran her hands over the soft leather of her armrests, a small smile pulling on her lips. First-class really was spectacular.

Hermione's eyes shot open.

She was on a plane.

She didn't remember getting on it.

Dark brown eyes scanned her surroundings and a startled gasp escaped her. This wasn't her flight home. It wasn't even a commercial airplane.

She was in a fucking jet.

The brunette swallowed thickly as she took in the empty champagne bottles and festive streamers lining the floor. Her panic built as her confusion grew.

Lavender's dad was rich and though he'd gifted her an all-expenses paid trip to Vegas for her twenty-first birthday, he'd drawn the line at a private jet.

Also, all three girls were missing.

'Hello?' she called out, her voice timid and unsure.

'Hey,' murmured a soft voice behind her.

The brunette shot to the sound with dizzying speed. 'Ow.'

She slammed her eyes shut. Everything was spinning too damn fast. Her need to vomit was growing by the second.

'Deep breaths baby. C'mon,' said the same voice.

His encouragement followed by a gentle massage on the back of her neck. She shouldn't have allowed it. Technically, when a stranger is pawing at you it's best to push said person away. That was the proper protocol. Instead, Hermione bowed her head, giving him more room to work with.

She allowed it for a bit longer until her mind started screaming at her. Desperately trying to knock some sense into her hungover brain, telling her how wrong it was to let some strange man give her a neck rub. No matter how good it may have felt.

Either way, right or wrong, the bloke had skills. Hermione'd always snickered when she read passages from a book where a girl purred from a well-placed touch but now … she didn't think it completely idiotic.

Her saviour rubbed a particular spot with his thumb and she saw stars. A moan was ripped from her throat. Low and guttural. His movements stopped, his fingers gripped her neck and that's when logic and common sense finally kicked in.

She raised her hand and with a soft nudge, she pushed away his gloriously firm but gentle fingers. Internally, she wept at the loss.

Reason was a pain in the arse sometimes.

Hermione peeked over her seat, to the man with magical hands who was currently rubbing his eyes.

He was beautiful. Really, there was no other way to describe the fine specimen of man before her. Long, wavy, black hair that reached down to his neck. High cheekbones covered by stubble. Full, smooth lips and tattoos.

Lots and lots of them, as far as the eye could see and she could see plenty considering he was shirtless.

Heavily tattooed arms, blue roses on one hand and skulls on the other. Black and grey with sporadic bursts of colour littered his chest and lean torso, across his stomach and holy hell, he had a treasure trail.

A path of dark hair leading downwards and full of promises. A blush threatened to form and she looked away before her study of him turned into obvious eye-fucking.

Her eyes shot to the bloke's face and she suppressed a sigh of relief. He hadn't caught her eyeing him. Thank fuck for small favours.

Tired eyes, tinged pink ran over her face and hair. Knowing her curls in the morning, she had a rat's nest atop her head. She would've been embarrassed under normal circumstances, would have tried to tame the thing but she was otherwise occupied with the shitstorm she'd found herself in.

'Good morning,' he said, a lazy smile on his face.

He pushed back his fringe and her eyes narrowed in recognition. He looked so damn familiar.

She'd never known someone like him though. Definitely not some tattooed bloke whose long hair, low slung jeans and designer briefs screamed bad boy.

Hermione's eyes darted over his face and her mouth fell open as her eyes grew wide.

She slammed her eyes shut and her mouth snapped closed. She shook her head.

'No fucking way,' she muttered.

A slow chuckle broke the strained silence and a shiver ran down her spine. Hermione pushed back her fringe as she set startled eyes on the man lounging before her.

A sparkle of light caught her attention as she lowered her hand and gave her pause. Her mouth fell open.

'Holy shit!'

A huge rock sat on her left ring finger.

The digit that implied marriage.

As in married.

On _her_ finger.

Someone was taking the piss.

In one swift move, the ring was off and she lobbed it at him. It rebounded off his chest and landed at his feet. He picked it up and after studying it, the bloke bit it like she'd seen in films.

The stranger was a certified moron. If that was a diamond he'd break his teeth.

'Huh,' he said. 'Guess it wasn't a prank then.'

Her gaze snapped back to the bloke and her mouth slammed shut, rattling her teeth. He sat up and leaned in close as her breath caught in throat and a strangled moan escaped her. Now that she saw his face more clearly, she knew exactly who he was.

'What wasn't?' she asked him with an increasing sense of dread.

A paper filled her vision. Brightly coloured and extravagant, she read it's heading and her vision swam. Marriage Certificate.

 _No._

Her eyes darted to the signatures and she lost the ability to breathe.

 _Fuck no._

Hermione pulled her hair back trying to make sense out of all this.

'Oh shit,' he laughed, eyebrows up and a smile curling his lips.

She glared at him but he didn't notice. Grey eyes studied the paper in his hands and that panic she'd been holding back started to break through.

They were _married?_

No way.

Fucking hell it was impossible.

She was hallucinating.

She had to be.

Because there was no way in hell she'd gotten drunk and woke up married. To _him_ of all people.

She was still drunk. Or dreaming! Yup, that was it.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and even bit her tongue for good measure. She blinked. Once, twice, three times and nope. He was still there. Staring at her with a rapidly growing scowl.

Sirius Black. Lead guitarist to the world famous Marauders.

'What?' she asked him, growing anxious the longer he stared at her that way.

She frowned when she realised he was glaring at her chest. Hermione fought the urge to cover herself, refusing to be embarrassed by him.

It'd taken her years to feel comfortable with her body and she was not going to allow all that hard work to be ruined by a single look. She may have been more hips and bum than breasts but she was finally at a place where she liked the way she looked and she would not permit some _man_ to change that. No matter how rich and pretty he was.

Before she could ask again, he started running his hands over himself and he just as quickly stopped. His eyes grew wide as he rubbed at his neck. He flinched and shot out of his seat before she could blink. He pulled at a door and darted inside.

'What the fuck?!'

Hermione lowered herself to her seat, eyes wide and her heart pounding. His sudden change in demeanour was startling. She'd heard stories of crazy rock star moments and tantrums, this had to be one of them.

She scratched at her collarbone and flinched at the sudden burning sensation. With a frown, the brunette picked up a spoon and her mouth fell open.

There tracing the curve of her collarbone was a name in fancy cursive. Dark ink, surrounded by pink skin.

 _Sirius._

Without a thought as to how it'd happened she found herself facing a mirror, Sirius Black behind her staring at his own tattoo. His hair pushed back, revealing his neck with its own fresh ink.

 _Hermione._

The same lettering but unlike her simple one, his tattoo was embellished with Hermione roses.

Her mouth opened and closed. Faint noises escaped her and her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. All the while he continued to stare at her through the small mirror in the loo.

Hermione gave a startled gasp and jumped when the Marauder threw his head back and laughed long and hard. He clutched at his gut as tears began to roll down his face. His bark like laughter echoing in the small ro... she froze.

That's right, they were on a plane. She'd almost forgotten.

'Where the fuck are we?' she asked and flinched at her screeching tone.

It was highly possible that she was starting to freak out. That only set him off more.

'On a jet back to England,' he finally answered.

The grin on his face was grounds for murder. No one would dare convict her. She pushed him out of the way, needing more room to breathe. Outside the small windows, a vast ocean of clouds and a horizon of endless ocean met her eyes.

International waters. It'd be easy to dispose of the body. She needed answers first though.

'Why are we going back?'

'Don't know. I woke up about an hour ago and I asked the pilot. He said I said England, so yeah ... Who are you?'

His question, while reasonable, was a bit insulting. Also worrying because she'd married him and he didn't know her name.

If they indeed were married. The ring and paper and tattoo all said yes but still. There was no definitive proof.

He was staring again and she stared right back, too stuck on stupid to reply.

'Right. Well you know who I am and since I don't know how to fucking say your name, assuming this word on my neck is your name and as you obviously can't talk, we'll call you baby.'

That brought her back.

Hermione's eyes turned to slits. 'Call me baby and I will fucking end you.'

Dark eyebrows shot upwards and his laughter started all over again. Hermione's head throbbed at the sound. She flinched, acutely aware of her aches and nausea which had been mostly ignored due to extenuating circumstances.

Shaking hands smoothed down the front of her dress. Black, slinky and shimmery, it was low on the front and backless. It was the most daring thing she'd ever worn. Men and women had stared and she'd felt damn good in it last night. Now in broad daylight, not so much. Brown eyes looked past her hands and its ring, to her bare feet. Expensive high heels nowhere in sight. Borrowed expensive heels. She hoped Lavender didn't mind. She frowned, intent on looking for them and gasped at the sight before her.

The private jet was trashed. Everywhere she looked she found evidence of hard partying. Bottles of champagne and vodka littered the floor. Bottles with corks that resembled potions sat all over the place, bright green liquid at their base.

'Yeah. We got fucked up. I don't know about you kitten but I will never drink that shit again. Killer Drink my arse, fucking mind eraser more like.'

She agreed wholeheartedly but was not about to say so.

'Don't call me kitten,' she hissed, turning her head to look at him.

Again, his eyebrows disappeared into his fringe.

'Why the fuck are you mad?' he asked her. His voice shaking with amusement. 'You're the lucky one in this. I'm the one who married a fucking groupie.'

A groupie.

She studied her _husband's_ face and blinked at the honesty in his eyes. He wasn't lying. To him, that was all she was. Even though she technically wasn't.

He was right though, she did know who he was. His pretty face was plastered all over Lavender's bedroom walls because the bloke was fuckable. His band had been famous for years. Their loud and senseless music a constant noise played on the radio, their faces always on the damn news because one of them did something crazy and wild because sex, drugs and rock n roll. Blah, blah, blah. She was not impressed.

She knew who he was alright, but she was not a fan. Much less a damn groupie.

Hermione knew one or two of their songs and had vague knowledge of their names and faces. Really the only one she was sure of was Moony, the drummer. Even then she only knew him because he was the one on the news the most. Being labelled the wild one in a group of crazy wankers made him stick out apparently. Also because it was a well-known factoid that he had a thing for howling at the full moon. Fucking nutter.

According to Lavender, he too was shaggable. Then again, her favourite member changed on a bi-weekly basis. By her account, all four boys were knickers dropping hot.

The thought gave her pause and Hermione frowned as wild, unseeing eyes searched the cabin. Her whole focus centred on her physical aches.

She didn't feel any different. Nothing felt sore and there was no discomfort beyond her head. Hermione clenched her vaginal muscles, swallowing the lump in her throat.

There was no pain. The likelihood of them having had sex was small. But still.

'Did we have sex?'

The amusement in his eyes set her on edge and her tears welled up hard and fast. She didn't remember it and what's worse, she'd lost her virginity to him.

'Shit! Don't cry,' he said, his voice panicky. 'If you want to fuck, we'll fuck but please don't cry.'

He reached for his zip when his words registered and she shut her eyes, backing away from him. Her hand outstretched, blocking _that_ from becoming visible to her poor virgin eyes.

She'd never seen a penis in real life before and the last thing she wanted was for his to be the first.

'Stop,' Hermione yelled. Relief coursing through her when he did. 'Did we, yes or no?'

The Marauder frowned as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a string of condoms. Several bit of paper fell out as he did but he paid them no mind as they littered the floor around him.

Sirius looked up at her shaking his head. 'I don't think so. They're all here and I don't touch anyone without one of these. No matter how drunk I get.'

Thank fuck, they hadn't fucked.

Her highly prized and cherished virginity was still hers to give away when and to whom she saw fit.

'Oh thank God,' she laughed. Her relief immeasurable and infinite.

'Wait ... you're happy I didn't fuck you?'

She laughed long and hard because yes she was. His insulted tone only managed to set her off more. She knew it was a mixture of nerves and humour that was setting her off but she didn't care. They were a welcomed relief. Happy tears were better than frustrated and scared ones.

Eventually, after her cackling stopped they sat down to talk and make sense of their ordeal.

Sirius, though he was as clueless as her, had been active since he'd woken up.

According to the pilot, they'd seemed pissed but nothing too extreme. Some stumbling and slurring but nothing to justify this level of fuckery. They'd seemed almost normal if a bit drunk.

Her husband didn't remember anything either but he, unlike her, still had his belongings with him. Upon waking he'd fired off calls and texts trying to figure out which of his mates had set him up only to find that no one had done anything. This fuck up appeared to be theirs and theirs alone. After several confusing calls and angry texts from his manager, information was forthcoming.

Yes they were married. Yes their quickie Vegas wedding counted as a legal one and yes it was valid in the UK as well. No, no one knew why the hell they were on a jet back to England. Yes shit would be sorted by the time they landed. Yes the media was aware of it and yes, her flat was surrounded.

Shitstorm did not begin to cover it.

'Hermione. Stop worrying,' he said for the hundredth time.

Leg shaking and fingernail clasped firmly between her teeth she turned to him. 'Are you sure this'll all be settled by the time we land?' she asked for the hundredth time.

The Marauder nodded, reaching over to lower her hand. 'Yes. The lawyers are on it. The second we land, we sign the annulment papers and you'll be rid of me Mrs Black.'

She gave him a sad little smile because she didn't really have a real one to give him.

The way he said it made it sound so simple. Sign papers, shake hands and okay, bye. It wasn't that easy though, her parents would make sure of it.

Hermione had never caused them problems. She was a model student, almost always top of her class. She did not break rules and always did as she was told. She was a good girl who somehow still managed to disappoint them.

Her life had been planned long before she'd been born and shed fallen in line magnificently. Go to school, sixth form, university and excel. Become a dentist, apprentice under her parents for a few years and gain experience. Run the family business once they retired. Somewhere along the line she was expected to marry a dentist and produce more dentists.

Perfect plan for the only child of Doctors Granger.

Her first act of rebellion had been going to a university they had not approved of because it was in London. That she shared a flat with her friends was another. They'd disapproved and three years later, they still refused to let it go.

This was not going away any time soon, if it ever did.

She'd only wanted one night without pressures or responsibilities.

Hermione lowered her hand again. Her nail had somehow managed to find its way back into her mouth. Dark eyes studied the man sat on her right.

His hair hid his features as his bowed head read over the words written in his journal. A pen on his right hand, his foot tapping away to a tune only he could hear. As she watched him, he started to write again.

Turned out he was the writer of the group.

He'd been surprised when she'd started asking questions about basic band knowledge. That she didn't particularly like his band had amused him to no end. After a while, he'd pulled out his journal and began to write.

She had limited knowledge about his music, knowing only two of his songs. Burnt Daydreams and another that she didn't know the name of but whose lyrics were vivid in her mind because of the chorus.

 _This is all I am and I can't be more._

 _Can't you see? Can't you see? Can't you see?_

 _This is me._

She'd never admit it but that song had hit a nerve. As far as loud and angry songs went, it was a brilliant one and she'd told him so. His smile had been beautiful and sincere and she'd returned it. Grey eyes had darted across her face before lowering once again, disappearing into his writing world.

Their conversations grew steadily warmer. He told her about life on the road, told her funny stories about his band mates and of his music. His passion had been beautiful and jealousy had burned in her chest.

In turn she'd told him about her planning to become a dentist and her friends. She'd felt boring but he'd listened and asked questions like he'd actually found her interesting. Which was ridiculous of course. He was a world famous rock star and renowned guitarist. In comparison, her pathetic little life was vastly underwhelming and bland.

It was gone four in the morning by the time they landed and true to his word, everything had been sorted.

After a speedy read through, annulment papers were signed and that was it. Stood in a hanger, shoeless, unwashed and exhausted she officially became a twenty-one year old divorcee. Not something she'd expected but whatever, it was over.

To her great relief, a private car had been set aside to take her wherever the hell she wanted.

Somewhere other than her flat had been encouraged. It was surrounded by reporters and fans alike who wanted to meet the woman who'd married a Marauder.

The last twenty-four hours were a blur and she wanted nothing more than to be home hiding under a blanket, but that was wildly out of the question. Realistically, it'd never been an option.

She hoped the girls were okay. She'd sent them emails using Sirius' mobile but they'd not replied since the last time she'd checked. Hopefully, they hadn't done something as equally stupid as this.

Hermione nodded at the Marauder who wasn't as wild as he'd made out to be. Cocky and smirky definitely, but he wasn't so bad.

Hermione turned to the tall bloke whose air of mischief and constant amusement had yet to waver. She took off his leather jacket and handed it to him. He'd found it earlier in the day and had insisted she wear it, opting to remain shirtless. He didn't take it however and her hand lingered in the empty space between them. Instead, his eyes flitted over her body in obvious appreciation. Hermione fought the urge to squirm.

Sirius eventually shook his head. 'Keep it.'

'I can't. It's yours.'

'You can and you will. Please.'

She put the jacket back on. She was too tired and mentally exhausted to argue.

Hermione reached out her hand to him, smirk in place, he shook it.

Warm metal fell into her palm. It was the ring. The brunette blinked up at him. 'What are you doing?'

'Keep it,' he urged her. 'Sell it if you want.'

'I can't. It must've cost a fortune!'

He shrugged, like money wasn't an issue. Then again, she realised, he was a rock star so it wasn't.

It was non-negotiable though, she couldn't keep it. Hermione stared him down as she set it on the annulment papers.

'Okay, have it your way.' Sirius smirked and shook his head. 'It was a pleasure meeting you Hermione.'

'Likewise Sirius. Good luck with your music.'

'Good luck with your dentist stuff.'

A parting nod and she walked away, towards her waiting ride. She turned to look at him once more before climbing into the black car. She found him staring after her and as their eyes met, a slow grin formed on his lips. He winked at her and she shook her head. A closed lipped smile, a parting wave and that was it.

Her short-lived marriage was over and it was time to go home. Back to Godric's Hollow. Back to her mum and dad to face the music.

* * *

 _One year later..._

'Your ex-husband is on the news again,' her mum said as she fought the urge to cringe.

She knew. She'd seen the morning news.

He'd gotten married and divorced for the sixth time and she couldn't help but think that he was a fucking mess. Likewise she was equal parts ashamed and relieved at having been the first ex-Mrs Black. The first implied accident, anything beyond that was foolish intent. Almost all his wives had been groupies and not a single one had lasted a week.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her mum shaking her head before walking away. Hermione sighed.

The media attention she'd received at first had been the worst but it paled in comparison to her parents' continued reactions and passive aggressive remarks.

She heard her mum head upstairs and she raised the telly's volume as the sound of rushing water filled the house.

She was half-way through an episode of _Red Dwarf_ when the knocking started.

Hermione's heart skyrocketed the second she opened the door and saw his handsome, stupid face. The last thing she'd expected was to see him here, standing there, watching her.

'So I've been thinking,' Sirius said, that same damn smirk firmly in place. 'And I reckon we should get married.'

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello and welcome to the magical free world of Harry Potter. A wonderful place full of our favorite characters but without all those pesky, evil people.

I love fics like these and I love this ship. It's lovely, glorious and delicious and completely fucking lacking on the diverse side of things.

So, I wrote _Pick._

A story about a rock star and the girl who made him fall.

Something different to break the monotony and barrage of Time-Turner fics. In an unrelated note, check out my own Time-Turner fic, _Silver._

Hypocrisy is a good word by the way.

I know where this fic is going and how it'll end, but I don't know the road it'll take to get there. I look forward to figuring it out. Hopefully, you decide to come along for the journey. Should you decide that a rock god Sirius is for you, please contribute to my writing process via song recs and reviews.

Thank you all for reading.

Erica x


	2. Stupefy

Many thanks to Dave for the awesome beta job.

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 **Pick**

Stupefy

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 _Slade - Coz I Love You_

Recommended by desnoir

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There was no time to think.

Hermione grabbed the stupid sod by his lapels and dragged him inside. Her eyes darting from one end of the street to the other, searching for any sign that he'd been spotted.

She didn't see anyone but that didn't mean that no one had seen them. The door slammed shut and she cringed with bated breath, waiting for her mum to yell out questions, demanding to know who'd come knocking.

Thankfully, she hadn't heard. Her shower successfully diverting her attention.

Grabbing his arm, she pulled him upstairs and into her bedroom at the end of the hall and conveniently, the furthest room from the loo.

Hermione whirled around to stare at him as he looked around.

He was so out of place it bordered on ridiculous.

If you'd have told her two years ago that a heavily tattooed rocker would one day set foot in her room she'd have laughed.

In an unrelated note, damn he looked good.

A black beanie on his head pushed down his hair so it settled around his shoulders. A dark red flannel shirt over a faded band shirt, jeans and black Converse ... she approved.

She'd never been a fan of the scruffy look but he pulled it off nicely.

For her sake, Hermione looked away but not before catching him giving her a similar once over. Unfortunately for her, she was still in her pyjamas. She hadn't exactly planned on having her ex-husband over for tea. Really, this was most uncivilised sort of behaviour. He should have called first.

'What the hell are you doing here?' she asked him. Whispered, if she was honest.

Thankfully, he whispered right back. 'I want to get married. To you. Again, I mean.'

She shrugged, nodding. 'Alright.'

'Yeah?'

'No!' She whisper yelled at him. 'What the fuck is wrong with you?'

He was about to answer but she shushed him with various hissing noises and hand gestures. The water had been turned off.

Sirius didn't move or say anything as she craned her neck, looking over her shoulder at the door. A creak of a door, soft padding of footsteps and the dull thud of another door closing.

The brunette turned back to Marauder and frowned. He was looking at her weird. 'What?'

'Nothing.' He shrugged, the liar.

Whatever, it wasn't important. She had more pressing matters, like making him go away.

 _If you'd really wanted him gone why'd you put him in your room?_

Hermione pushed away that thought. Negativity had no room in her life.

Also, she didn't want to think about the truth of that statement or of the sentiment behind it because, as she'd told herself repeatedly, she did not like him.

Fancying your ex-husband was stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Stupid.

Yes she'd gotten curious about him after their impromptu marriage and read up on him and okay _fine,_ she'd liked what she'd found out but that didn't mean anything.

She didn't fancy him.

And if she managed to find herself some ruby red slippers and clicked the heel three times fast while repeating that over and over again, then maybe it'd come true and she'd believe it.

She was fucked.

'Hermione!' shouted her mum through the door and she flinched, startled. Eyes wide and heart stuck in her throat she turned to face the door. Her body blocking him from sight should her mum open it.

Not that it would've made a difference as he was a foot taller but the thought and effort was there.

'Y-yeah?' she stammered.

'I'm going to start my shift with Dad now. Can I trust you to stay home and not go out?'

She nodded her compliance and cringed when she felt Sirius stir behind her. She felt the heat burn through her face and she prayed to whatever fucking deity listening that her mum didn't make a rude remark.

Privately, she could deal with it. In front of _him_ was a whole new level of embarrassment she didn't want to face.

'Hermione?'

She jumped. Damn her to hell and back, but she did.

'Y-eah mum. I'll be here!'

'Remember to be ready by five. You have that dinner date with the Longbottom boy.'

'Okay.'

'Good. Wear that blue dress, you look pretty in it and remember what Dad said, be home by half ten.'

'Okay,' she said back.

'Okay love, have fun. But not too much fun! We wouldn't want any more unpleasantness.'

She cringed. 'Okay.'

Her eyes watered and an ache settled on her chest. She blinked away the tears as the sound of her mum going down the stairs echoed around the house.

By the time the front door closed, she was almost composed. Her cheeks were still burning something fierce though. All the while, he hadn't said a word.

She didn't need to turn around to know he was staring at her. Hermione could feel his eyes on her.

'Do you do everything they say?' he quietly asked.

Her embarrassment turned to anger. Frustration with her mum and of her emotionally unfair attachment caught up with her.

She snapped.

'No, I don't do everything my parents say!' she defended, turning on him.

That was a goddamn lie. She most certainly did do everything her parents said. Really, it was fucking pathetic but she couldn't outright admit it could she? Not to him anyway. He wouldn't understand.

Hermione had read up on the band and particularly his life during the year. She'd learnt his personal history via interviews and magazine articles.

The brunette was aware of his family history. Of the similarities to her own situation and of the vast difference caused by one decision.

First-born son to one of the richest and most prominent political families. Heir to a vast fortune. Private schools all his life. Eton alumnus. His father Peer of the Realm who had a seat in the House of Lords. A socialite mum with various noteworthy and world renowned causes.

The aristocracy was what he'd been born into and what he'd willingly walked away from.

Sirius Black, Tory Lord in training, had purposely failed out of Eton because all he'd wanted to do was play music.

He'd gone against his parents' wishes, whereas she'd built her life around their expectations.

She could try and explain but honestly, how could someone like him understand her? He'd chased after his dream and fuck anyone's approval. She on the other hand, had come running home for New Year's because her parents had ordered her to.

 _We wouldn't want you getting drunk and doing anything stupid now, would we?_

The bastard snorted bringing her back to the present. 'That's not what your friends said.'

'My friends are lying bitches.'

'They said you'd say that and to not believe you.'

Hermione frowned. 'Wait. How do you know my friends?'

'Went to your flat.'

'Why?'

The Marauder shrugged. 'Needed to see you.'

'For what?'

'To propose of course.'

'Sirius,' she hissed, desperately trying to bring reason back into the bloody conversation. 'Why are you really here?'

'I already told you, I want to get married.'

Hermione blinked at him. The idiot smiled.

'You're actually serious?'

He nodded, taking off his beanie and running tattooed fingers through his fringe, pushing it back. 'I am yeah.'

'Why?'

'Doesn't matter why. Just marry me.'

'It does matter!' she snapped, her patience gone. 'You show up on my parents' doorstep a year to the date after we saw each other last and you _propose?_ Who the hell does that?'

'I missed you.'

'Bull. Shit. Tell me why you're here.'

The Marauder sat on her bed, bouncing a bit to test it. He wasn't looking at her she noticed. He looked awkward and out of place. If she hadn't known any better she would have thought he was embarrassed. That was impossible though, everything she'd seen and read about him implied high levels of an I-Don't-Give-A-Fuck attitude.

He was still avoiding her gaze.

'Sirius.'

He sighed. 'I'm not lying. I did miss you... or what you did to me anyway.'

Hermione frowned. 'What are you on about?'

He bowed his head. Elbows on his knees as he shook his head. Dark hair shielding his face before he looked up. He looked unsure.

'I hadn't written anything in over three years, when we met,' he said, finally meeting her eyes.

She knew. He'd had a bit of a writer's block since their last album. Rumours of the band breaking up had sprung because of it.

'I'd ... I don't know. I hadn't had anything to say or worth saying and I hadn't been able to write. Then you come along and in the span of a flight, I wrote four songs.'

Hermione felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. The implication that he believed her the cause ... her lovesick heart fluttered and her tummy ached with all the butterflies.

'I ended up writing three more within the span of the week. I thought my block had been over and I could write again but it didn't happen. A month passed and nothing. I figured it had to have been something about that night that triggered it so I drank and got married and it worked. I wrote songs and when I went back to them, I realised they were all shit except the ones I'd written while I was with you. If I'm honest, I kinda knew that already but I wasn't sure. I thought my inspiration was coming from the impulse of marriage or whatever, but I was wrong. Every marriage and every bird failed in comparison...' Grey eyes studied her face. A soft smile on his lips. 'It's you. You're the inspiration behind those songs Hermione. You're my muse.'

Her heart melted.

And it shouldn't have.

He was a charmer.

A known womanizer who played guitar and wrote songs.

He knew the power of words. For fuck's sake, it was the bloke's _job._

He was a writer. Creating fabricated lies and half-truths was his skill.

She was not allowed to feel anything but suspicion as far as he was involved.

'That's real sweet,' she deadpanned. 'I'm almost sure that's not a line.'

He blinked up at her. Wrinkles forming on his forehead. 'What's wrong? Why are you being like this?'

'What are you talking about?' she asked him, taking a backwards step. Knowing exactly what he was implying. She could practically feel the bitch vibes she was giving off.

'You're acting weird.'

She laughed. It sounded very, very bitter. 'How the hell would you know? You don't even know me.'

He stiffened at that. It was a miniscule action but she saw it in the way his shoulders moved. She could see it in the hard set of his lips and in the way he was looking at her.

Sirius Black looked upset.

And damn her and her bloody hormones for caring much less noticing.

She had to get him away. Far, far away. He had to leave and she'd have to do something about these inconvenient feelings that held no place in her perfectly structured world.

Beautiful rock stars who said the right things, had gorgeous eyes, tattoos and sinful little smiles were nothing more than distractions.

He had to fuck off.

'You have to go,' she said, her tone final.

He didn't get up. Or moved for that matter. He just stared.

Hermione shifted a bit, uncomfortable with his unsettling gaze. The Marauder blinked and the corner of his lip slowly curled.

Dread did not fill her. Nope. It dropped into her lower belly and moistened areas that she generally liked dry unless masturbation was involved.

He was _absolutely gorgeous_ and holy hell the way he was looking at her. Like she was his prey and it was only a matter of time before he caught her ... really it was demeaning and completely objectifying and she shouldn't have liked it but she _did._

She liked it a lot.

It sent a little shiver of fear and anticipation through her.

Her inner feminist was shouting abuse at her but fuck that bitch, he was pretty.

He stood, eyes trained on her. Caging her in and curse her for welcoming it.

Her breath caught in her throat and she fought the urge to flee as he took the three required steps to be within her personal space and- _oh fucking God,_ he smelt good.

Never again would she think cheap cologne was worthy of the name because whatever expensive scent he was sporting was everything.

She looked up at him. Brown eyes traced over the curve of his smiling lips (they looked soft) to meet his beautiful, silver eyes (damn).

Sirius lowered his head, his lips tracing the curve of her cheek before pressing against her ear.

'I've remembered a few things Hermione,' he whispered and the slow ache in her special bits became a low throb.

She remembered too. Not everything mind but what had managed to seep through the fog had entertained her quite a few nights.

The memory of his hands and lips. Of his tongue as he looked up at her.

She slammed her eyes shut, licking her lips.

Oh God. _Licking her lips._

Bad thoughts. _BAD_ thoughts.

'And I think you remember too,' he said, his voice husky.

Her pussy throbbed.

That was it. She pushed him away.

Sirius Black was a big arse bag of noPE. She wasn't going to put herself in the position to get her heart broken and giving into these feelings was wrong.

It led down a road called Heartache, south of Bad Boys Are Trouble Drive, which was parallel to We're Disappointed in You Hermione Road.

When she looked up at him, her breath hitched. There was hunger in his eyes. Her eyes flit down his front and she had to swallow thickly. He had an erection.

Because of _her._

'You have to go,' she said. Whispered. Panted. Whatever.

He stared at her mouth before moving down to her breasts, where she knew the girls were pointy.

He nodded. 'Fine. I'll leave for now, but I'll be back tomorrow.'

'What?' she gasped, her heart racing. 'No. You can't!'

He didn't look bothered by her refusal. In fact, he didn't seem surprised at all. She idly wondered how much her friends had told him.

'You've no say in it love.'

'Don't call me love.'

His lips curled and he took a step forward, once again in her personal space but not touching.

'I'm not going anywhere.'

'Like hell!'

He chuckled. Low and dirty and she most certainly did not shiver. 'We'll see.'

Cold dread spread through her.

The Marauder took another step forward and she took a step back, her desk digging into her bum. Her breath hitched and that caged animal feeling kicked in again.

Another thrill and another shiver. He chuckled again, the bastard.

'I'll see you tomorrow Muse.'

'Don't call m-'

A press of warm lips against her forehead, a wink and he was gone. She stood rooted to the spot for a while afterwards. His parting words echoing in her head, her body flushing hot.

 _This is going to be fun._

* * *

Hermione's mobile rang mid-date and she didn't hesitate to answer it.

It said nothing about Neville's company though. He was sweet, kind, intelligent and well versed. A proper gentleman and everything her parents would ever want for her.

He'd have been an acceptable partner once upon a time. Perhaps a year ago but not now. Not when her stupid arse heart was set on someone else.

Plus, Neville was gay.

He hadn't said it exactly- and she hated herself for making assumptions much less thinking them- but sometimes you could just _tell._

She liked Nev but this wasn't going anywhere. Also, curiosity was eating away at her. How could his parents not know?

'Hello?' she said into her mobile.

'Hello Muse. How's your date?'

Her heart stammered at the endearment and she hated herself for being so bloody stupid.

'Don't call m-'

'You look beautiful by the way. I liked that slinky black dress better but I gotta say, this reserved, blue-funeral dress you've got is a bit of a turn on. You look like a sexy widow. All that lace up and down the sleeves is doing something to me.'

Her eyes had grown wider the longer he'd spoken and their size didn't lessen when she spotted him. Sat across the restaurant, in a corner, he was certainly eye grabbing. All those tattoos peeking out from under a three-piece suit- she was ogling him and she didn't have the power to stop.

That smug look of his told her he knew it too. She really couldn't blame him cos fuck.

'Like what you see?' he purred into the phone, his eyes burning through her even at this distance and in a room this crowded.

She tore her eyes away from him lest she stripped naked and presented herself to him like some sex buffet. All you can eat and all that.

Hermione could feel her cheeks burning. Across from her Neville was looking at her weird. God knew what she looked like but the bloke was clearly growing suspicious.

'Neville I'm going to take this call okay? Two seconds, promise.'

The blond gave her a nod, a tight lipped almost smile and looked down at his plate. She felt shit.

No scratch that, she felt like a horrid bitch.

She was still going to take the call though. She had to. Because, because.

The brunette stepped out into the night air as she spoke.

'What the hell Sirius? What are you doing here? How'd you even get my number?!'

The answer came to her before she'd finished asking.

Lavender. It'd been Lavender. Of course it was.

Best mate or not, she was going to kill the cunt.

She knew how Hermione felt. The curvy blonde was the only person she'd ever admitted her feelings to and here she was, giving out her number and telling the bloke she fancied where to find her.

Hermione loved the bitch.

'Lav,' he answered her, confirming what she already knew.

A pang of jealousy hit her in the gut.

The ease with which he'd said her nickname and the almost fond tone to his voice as he'd said it- it was the way he said Muse.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Her throat felt tight and her chest hurt a bit.

'What are you doing here Sirius?'

He didn't answer her when she asked again. Hermione looked at her mobile and jumped when he spoke behind her.

'Ne-ville,' Sirius said, stretching out the word like he was testing it.

Two syllable names were apparently too difficult for the bloke.

Sirius pointed at the blond through the window. His heavily tattooed hand grabbing her attention. She wondered what, if anything, they meant.

'Do you actually like him? Cos it looked like you were bored out of your fuckin' mind.'

She felt her eyes turn to slits, the implied insult towards Neville surging her on. 'I'm not. I was having a perfectly decent night until you showed up.'

The Marauder studied her, his jaw stiffened. 'Were you?'

'Yes.'

Grey eyes turned to the window, Neville smiling face visible. His eyes trained on his mobile.

'Nice suit.'

Hermione almost cringed. The tall blond was wearing a brown suit with a blue tie, it was anything but nice. On the plus side, the tie matched her dress.

She suspected that had more to do with her parents and his though.

'Isn't it just?'

Sirius turned back to her, 'Is he a dentist?'

'No,' Hermione shook her head, 'he's a florist.'

'A _florist?'_

'Yes,' she snapped, defensive shields up and flaring. 'Is that a problem?'

His damn jaw twitched again and his cheekbones shifted.

'Not at all,' he said, sidestepping her. 'Let's meet him shall we?'

And then the beautiful bastard stepped into the restaurant and headed towards her table. Before she could process it, he'd sat down across from a gaping Neville and started a conversation.

She was going to castrate him. Really, she was. People across the world would weep but they'd understand once she explained why it was necessary.

Neville was still staring at Sirius when she reached them.

'-rist are you? How'd that happen?' asked the eunuch in training.

Neville blinked- at him and then up at her.

The poor boy looked so damn lost, she couldn't blame him though. Sirius had the same effect on her.

Brown eyes turned to slits. Was- was Neville _blushing?_

His cheeks had a definite pink hue to them... and his eyes were staring too intently at his hands...

Oh. Hell. No.

She liked Nev. He was a nice enough guy but if he acted in any way untoward towards her ex-husband she'd slap the bitch down- and damn it that was not a good thing to think.

She could not fancy him, much less get possessive.

'F-family business,' stammered Neville, his breathless.

Hermione flinched. Yeah, he was gay. There was no way to hide the lust in his eyes and now Sirius knew it too.

His eunuch days grew nearer when he turned to look at her and smiled. Not smirked, or grinned but _smiled_ and her world focused on the beauty of it. Neville sighed.

Bitch better watch himself- she _really_ needed to watch that.

Sirius stood, satisfaction pouring out of him and he offered her his seat even though it was technically hers to begin with. 'I'll leave you guys to it then. Enjoy your meal. Neville mate, nice meeting you,' he said to the blond. He turned to her and her stupid heart skipped a beat. 'You look beautiful Muse. I'll see you tomorrow.'

She didn't bother correcting him. Not because she wanted to but because her brain stopped working the second his lips pressed against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted.

The memory of the same caress, as his fingers moved against her flashed to the forefront of her mind. Hermione eyes snapped open and met his. Grey eyes watched her with an intensity she didn't understand but wanted to explore.

A soft smile and he was gone. Around them, people stared and watched him go. A few took out their mobiles and that's when Neville startled her by grabbing her hand and pulling her to the back of the restaurant.

People were watching her and her cheeks burned.

Memories of the last time this happened surged through her. Of the media's criticism. News magazines and entertainment news mocking her appearance and homely looks. All wondering how she had managed to trap him.

It was an old wound, which under her parents gentle guidance, had festered and sored.

 _Do your hair love, remember what that article said?_

 _Don't wear that, it'll make you look bottom heavy. Remember that photograph they showed on the telly?_

Tears welled up and she walked faster, nearly tripping Neville in her haste as her shoes bumped into his.

Nev nodded at some bloke as they entered the kitchen. In the blink of an eye, they were in the back yard surrounded by seven or eight cars. A large sign on the gate read, Employees Only.

'You work here?' she asked him as he continued to guide her.

Blond hair flashed blue in the night sky.

'No. My friend's dad owns the place. Whenever I come here I'm allowed to park in the back.'

His car, as it turns out, was a shiny new Lexus. All soft, black, leather interior with fancy gadgets she couldn't begin to understand. It definitely beat her late model Honda Accord.

They drove for some time. Neither spoke and she didn't bother to ask where he was taking her. Her mind had blissfully drawn a blank. Eventually, they ended up parked in the back of a different shop.

 _Longbottom's Flowers and Accessories._

He turned off the engine but left the radio on, a soft hum of background noise as their eyes stared straight ahead at nothing.

He cleared his throat, turning to face her. 'You okay?'

She reluctantly nodded. She wasn't really, but she would be. This wasn't her first rodeo with staring and curious eyes.

'No you're not,' he cut through her bullshit. 'You looked like you were going to start crying once you saw all those people staring.'

She didn't say anything because she knew what was coming. It always came to this. To the Inevitable Questions.

'I mean, I'd had a feeling it was you when I saw you but I wasn't sure. Your hair is shorter and you look a bit thinner than you did in the pictures and videos but I thought it was you. But then you'd been introduced as Jane...'

Hermione kept her damn lips shut.

'It was you though. You're the bird he married last year. The first one anyway.'

They were getting closer.

'Did you guys plan it?'

And they'd arrived. Soon he'd start asking if she'd really faked a pregnancy in an attempt to trap him. They all did eventually.

Not that she was bitter over it or anything.

The brunette turned towards him. Eyes hard as she gave the usual answer reserved for people she generally liked but wasn't fully matey with. 'Sorry. You must reach friendship level twenty-five in order to unlock the answer.'

Neville didn't look unfazed or insulted. If anything he looked contemplative. A nod.

'Right... how does one reach level twenty-five?'

'Years of friendship and trust.'

A minute of silence and then, 'I'm twenty-one and I'm gay. Judging by your lack of surprise you knew that and I know you knew that because I make it a point to let out casual mannerisms that one would consider "gay". For the sole purpose of letting the girl I'm on a date with know that I am gay without having to say it. The reason I do this is because at the age of seven my parents died in a car crash caused by some drunk arsehole and was sent to live with me Nan. Who, once I came out, refused to accept it thinking I was having some sort of phase. I've insisted repeatedly that I am not gay by choice and still she refuses to acknowledge it and sets up these random dates for me on the off chance I may actually see the light and outgrow my homosexuality. I do it because no matter what, that woman raised me and though she doesn't understand, I love her dearly. Because of that, I've never been in a relationship. I've never so much as kissed a bloke and at this rate I'll probably die a bloody virgin. I've tried online dating but I always chicken out and push away any potential relationship that comes my way cos I'm scared of hurting her. It's getting to the point that I have to say something or I'll just end up marrying some girl for her benefit and I really don't want that to happen because, with all due respect to you and your bits, vaginas look bloody disgusting and they fucking terrify me. Also breasts, what the fuck is the appeal? They look heavy and uncomfortable to carry around all fucking day. I imagine they're like bollocks but less fun to play with, either way ew.' He took a breath, raised a blond eyebrow at her and gave her a lopsided smile. 'What friendship level am I now?'

'Twenty-five.'

That was beyond level twenty-five worthy and she told him as much. As well as her tale of woe. From her parents overbearing ways to his sudden appearance in her life. He stayed silent all throughout and didn't say anything until she finished.

'Damn.'

Hermione nodded. 'Yeah.'

'So … what are you going to do about it?'

She frowned. 'Nothing. What can I do?'

Neville shook his head, 'How about making sure he sticks around for a bit? Talking to him and getting to know him? Making sure that fine piece of arse leaves here and never forgets you? Bloody hell Hermione! You have a _Marauder_ chasing after you like a fucking puppy and you want to run him off? What the fuck is wrong with you?!'

'I can't.'

'You mean you won't.'

Hermione wiggled her toes, her nail polish flashing in the limited light. The neon sign of his shop reflecting off the car hood as Bon Jovi's, _Bed of Roses_ played in the background.

'I can't,' she said again, quietly.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Nev shaking his head. 'You're going to regret it.'

She didn't have an answer to that.

Just then her mobile buzzed and she slid a finger across the screen. It was a text from Sirius.

 _Goodnight Muse :)_

She sighed. Neville was right.

She was half-regretting it already.


	3. Diffindo

As usual, many thanks to my English rose of a beta David James for his speedy and wonderful work. You are much appreciated.

* * *

 **Pick**

Diffindo

* * *

 _Shinedown - Better Version_

Recommended by TheUnrealInsomniac

* * *

Dolores Umbridge looked like a short, fat man in drag.

That she wore a lot of pink and frilly material only enhanced the image.

Hermione did not like the older woman. Her parents however, loved her.

Their neighbour, and her one time minder, for as long as she could remember, had the most annoying, simpering voice she'd ever heard.

It grated on her nerves and the woman's presence set her on edge.

She moved aside as the shorter woman moved past her, walking out the door as she entered the house, with her usual rubbery smile and haughty eyes.

Her heart hammered in her chest and she swallowed thickly, warning bells firing off in her head.

Hermione moved towards the stairs, intent on avoiding her parents cos she wasn't stupid. Unfortunately, her dad called her into the kitchen.

Her footsteps were heavy and it took a lifetime to reach the kitchen. Her gut dropped the second she saw them sat side by side on the kitchen table. Opposite a single chair, looking for all the world as a team.

 _Behold!_ Doctors Granger, a strong, united front against the threat that was their weak-willed daughter.

Her chest burned and her eyes stung. Already she felt guilty and she had no sodding idea why.

She loved them with all her heart but fucking hell, she hated them.

A pang of guilt shot through her at the thought.

She was fucking ungrateful. They loved her, she knew they did. If they went a bit overbroad on the expectations it was because she was their only child and wanted all the best for her.

I'd didn't take away the resentment though.

Hermione took her usual seat, eyes downcast. Bracing herself for a family meeting which going by experience, wasn't going to end up well for her.

Her dad had that I'm-Disappointed-Hermione face on. The last time she'd seen it had been a year ago, when she'd married Siri- _SHIT._

Hermione blinked, her breath hitching. She knew what this was about. There was only one fucking thing that toady bitch was good for and it was for spreading gossip.

Dolores Umbridge was the nosiest piece of shit she'd ever come across. It wouldn't have surprised her if the woman had been born peeking through window curtains. Hermione was convinced that her sole purpose in life was to make everyone else miserable. Unfortunately for her, she had become the woman's favourite subject.

The bitch had damn near orgasmed when the media had come calling and that thrill had yet to fade.

 _She means well Hermione. Be grateful that it's her and not some random stranger. Really, she's doing us a favour._

Dolores loved looking through windows, catching her neighbours in the act of doing something which meant that she'd seen Sirius. The damn woman must've seen her pull Sirius into the house and watched him leave several minutes after.

This was about Sirius. Because there's no way it could've been about anything else.

She nearly jumped out of her seat when her dad spoke.

'Hermione, is there anything you would like to tell us?'

 _Fuck. NO._ She shook her head, her tongue stuck and unable to move. Her brain on overload.

'Are you sure about that young lady?'

She didn't move this time. Just stared at the empty fucking cup sat before her. Cos she was a goddamn coward.

'Hermione,' said her mum. 'We are trying to have a discussion, kindly reciprocate.'

Past instances told her to come clean.

Her survival instincts told her to deny, deny, deny.

She listened to the latter cos that bitch was saying what she wanted to hear.

'I really don't know what you're talking about Mum.'

Her mum sighed, shaking her head as her dad data back on his chair and crossed his arms, staring her down.

She was too damn scared to look away. Her heart pounding in her chest, she licked her lips and waited for the inevitable ridiculing that these discussions entailed.

'Dolores was kind enough to inform us that a man came calling earlier today and that you brought him into our home. Is that true?'

Her dad's eyes bore into her and her damn eyes watered, answering for her- fucking traitors.

Her mum shook her head. 'Hermione Jean. How could you?'

Before she could form a reply her dad's baritone rang out. 'Who was he?'

'I think we both know the answer,' said her mum.

'I want to hear her say it.'

She still didn't say anything. She physically couldn't and shame, anger and frustration flooded her. Eyes looked downward, studying her nail polish. Which was chipped. She needed to fix that.

'You are forbidden from seeing that boy again,' he said.

That _boy_ was twenty four but whatever.

'You are to move back home,' her eyes shot up and her mouth fell open. 'You will transfer to-'

'No!' she stood, panicking. Tears streaming down her face.

'Sit. Down,' he ordered, hands flat against the table, standing as well. His height towering over her.

Hermione did as she was told because of course she fucking did. It was all she did. It was the only thing that came naturally to her. Because they'd made it so.

God she hated herself.

Her dad took his seat. Her mum spoke. She cried.

'We have decided that you will come home and will transfer to Exeter University as we'd originally planned and all contact with that boy will stop. Are we understood?'

 _No, you're not._

That's what she wanted to say. That's what she should've said- yelled, shouted, spat- rather than what actually left her lips.

'Okay.'

Fucking goddamn it all to hell, the way she'd said it too... all meek and resigned and pathetic.

To add insult to injury, they. Fucking. Beamed.

 _Pleased_ by her compliance.

More traitorous, fucking useless tears. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her coat.

'May I be excused?' she asked the table.

'Of course,' he answered.

She stood and her mum followed suit. The older woman's arm went around her, hugging her. 'We love you sweetheart.'

'I love you too Mum.'

'We just want the best for you Hermione. I know it may seem unfair but one day you'll understand. When you're a mother, you'll see.'

She didn't even know if she wanted kids but they'd never taken that into account.

'I'm going to bed,' she said and moved before either of them could say anything else. She wasn't lucky though.

'You look beautiful by the way. How was your date? Was Neville to your liking?'

She nodded and there was no resentment behind her answer this time. 'It was good, yeah. He's a nice guy. I like him. We'll be going out again soon.'

Her mum smiled, eyes twinkling. 'Oh?'

'Yeah. We're going out dancing but I don't know when yet. He said he'd get back to me.'

'Good!'

'Yeah... Good night Mum. Dad.'

It was a relief when she finally reached her room.

Hermione closed the door behind her and the tears came hard and fast.

But she didn't make a sound.

The disappointment and pain was beyond it. Noise was pointless. Stilled silence was more appropriate. Not to be dramatic or anything, but suffering in silence was sort of her superpower.

She didn't sleep either. Insomnia was a thing.

As was a racing mind.

Frustration and dulled rage.

Desperation.

Resigned acceptance.

Eventually she got out of her funeral blue dress and into her pyjamas. Earbuds in, The Marauders on and laptop out, she settled in for a night of reading self-published stories, written by independent writers.

They helped for a bit but they didn't keep the shit away.

Everything she'd accomplished on her own since leaving her parents came rushing towards her.

Her school work, her friends, the social clubs she'd attended- all of which had had fuck all to do with their influence and everything to do with her own interests.

She'd started school as a shy and socially awkward shit and had blossomed into a socially awkward bitch with the bollocks to match. She more or less liked who she was. Granted she'd change a few obvious things but ... but nothing. There was no point to it anymore. She was moving home and her parents would get their dream, fairy tale ending.

Good for them.

She just hoped that whatever man they decided to marry her off to wasn't gay with crap fashion sense.

Hermione picked up her mobile and fired off a text.

 _Can't sleep._

It took a minute for Lav to reply. _Why? What'd they say/do?_

Tears welled up again and she hated herself a bit more. _They ordered me to move back home._

Within seconds her mobile was ringing and Lavender was ranting down the line, from across the country.

'You better not do it.'

She sighed. 'What choice do I have?'

'Oh I don't know,' she said, sarcasm dripping from every vowel. 'How about you tell them to go fuck themselves? That no you shan't, because it's your fucking life and not theirs? That you'll stay right where you bloody are and they can kiss your plump arse if they don't like it? For God's sake Hermione, fucking stand up them!'

She felt about two feet tall.

And stupid.

Very, very stupid.

And her arse wasn't plump. Just... rounder than most. It was her body's way of making up for the lack of boobage.

She also felt an overwhelming need to justify her moving back. Maybe if she convinced Lav it wasn't such a bad idea perhaps then she'd be okay with it. People bullshitted themselves into believing their own crap daily, she could do it too.

'I have to,' she said, the words sour in her mouth. 'They pay my rent, bills, schooling and everything. I don't have a job Lav, I can't afford to just say no.'

'Get a job then.'

It was that simple and that hard.

'Yeah,' she muttered. Lavender sighed and Hermione braced herself for the well-deserved tongue lashing her best mate was going to give her.

Instead she was met with silence on the other end. It lasted so long she had to check she hadn't been hung up on. 'Lav?'

'Yeah... I'm still here. Just thinking... this wouldn't have anything to do with a certain Marauder would it?'

Her silence was answer enough.

'Shit. Hermione, I'm sorry. I told him not to go late. I gave him your parents' work schedule and everything, that fucking piece of shit. If I ever see him again I'm going to punch him in the bollocks.'

'No, it's not that. He did what you told him. It was Umbitch, that lady I told you about. From across the street.'

'Cunt.'

Hermione hummed.

'Just putting this out there but if you needed it, I could pay your half of the ren-'

'No.'

'-Hermione.'

'No Lav. That's not an option.'

'It wouldn't be a problem.'

She laughed into the line. 'You're not even paying for yourself Lav. It's your dad.'

'True... so that it then? You're moving back to your mum and dad's?'

She didn't want to but they could easily cut her off. She could get a job. Millions of students across the globe worked and went to school. She could easily be that. Work at a shop somewhere. She'd have to manage her finances carefully of course but it was possible.

If she did well, her parents may even end up respecting her a bit. She snorted.

 _Right._

That idea was too far out there even for her.

'There's a job agency on that one corner by the shop you know?'

That's right, there was. 'Yeah...'

She could do this. School didn't start for another two weeks. Rent wasn't due until next month, her parents had already paid. She'd gotten the confirmation email from the landlord.

Fucking hell, she could do it.

She could _actually_ stand up to them if she wanted.

'I'm not moving back,' she said and her best mate laughed and cheered into the line.

Even as she said it, she'd known it was bullshit.

* * *

She didn't know when she fell asleep but when she woke up, it was to the sound of her mum's heated voice.

Her words, muffled by distance were unnecessary. Her tone said it all.

She was pissed. Off.

Hermione felt sorry for the poor bastard at the end of her mum's tirade. Who the hell it could've been was beyond her. To the best of her knowledge, her mum was generally liked in the neighbourhood and she mostly liked everyone.

Squinting, she looked to her mobile and realised the damn thing was dead. As was her laptop. The clock on her wall said it was close to noon.

She'd slept all morning.

 _Wait a minute,_ she thought, sitting up in bed. _That made no sense._

Her mum's shift started at nine in morning with her dad. It was Monday- they opened the office together on Mondays.

That's when her dad's voice cut through her shouting and her eyebrows shot up.

In all her years she'd never heard them have a row. Yet here they were, yelling at each other.

She got out of bed and opened the door. Her dad's voice got louder and she frowned. They were talking about _her._

'-rmione understands and has agreed, that all contact must be severed. She will not speak to you ever again.'

'With all due respect sir, I'd prefer hearing that from her.'

Her gut dropped and her mouth fell open. Brown eyes wide as she sat on the top step.

Sirius was here. In her home. Speaking to her mum and dad- standing up to her mum and dad. And he wanted to see her.

Her heart did that weird fluttering thing again. She would've smiled if she wasn't so bloody afraid.

'You will not speak to her.'

'Don't you think you've done enough!' screeched her mum, making her flinch.

'I don't think that's for you to decide.'

More screeching and her dad's meaningless words. She took advantage of the noise to peek through the railing.

Sirius was standing in the entry hallway, the door closed behind him but very obviously not welcomed. He was dressed in a black hoodie, black jeans, black Converse- black _everything_ and it only enhanced his beautiful eyes. To add to the overall effect, he was carrying coffee and what appeared to be a bag of pastries.

Goddamn he was gorgeous.

His voice cut through her mum's hysterics.

He looked inconvenienced rather than annoyed.

'I understand why you feel this way, I do and I apologise but I'd really like to speak with Hermione now please?'

'No!'

He sighed, shaking his head. It looked like his patience with her mum was beginning to wear thin.

She understood the sentiment.

'I'm sorry but I really need to speak with her.'

If it hadn't been for her cat, shit would've turned out differently.

The damn thing pounced on her as she'd been snooping, scared her causing her to fucking squeal as she slid down a few steps. Enough for her bare feet to become visible and provide proof that she was no better than Umbitch in certain regards.

'Hermione!'

It took everything in her not to run back upstairs, lock her door and hide beneath her covers for the rest of her bloody life.

Her cheeks were burning and fucking hell she could _feel_ Sirius grinning at her.

It was embarrassing. Also thrilling. Cos damn.

But she was in front of her parents too so that dulled all other reactions the bloke inspired.

She went down the steps and stood at the base of the staircase, her hand clinging to the banister.

'Morning,' she mumbled to the hardwood floors.

'Hermione why is he here?'

She had no fucking idea. 'I don't know.'

'He says you were expecting him.'

Technically, she wasn't. He'd invited himself regardless of her wishes. There was a vast difference between the two.

'I didn't. He invited himself, I told him not to come but he didn't listen.'

Sirius was quiet. His gaze was making her itch. Her parents' displeasure was thick and heavy in the air.

The tension was beyond cutting with a knife. A diamond studded, chainsaw would have been a better fit.

'Hermione?'

She cringed. His tone practically pleading. Asking her to look up at him.

It took more willpower than it should have but she did it. She met his eyes and her breath caught in her throat.

Suddenly she was angry.

Angry at her parents. Angry at him and at his fucking eyes.

 _How dare he?_

How dare he come into her life and do this?

How dare he look at her like that?

How dare he fucking judge her?

He didn't know her life. He had no right to look at her with disbelief.

She opened her mouth, to say what she didn't know but before any words could form her mum spoke.

'End this Hermione. Tell him enough is enough and that he needs to be on his way.'

Her anger faded as Sirius frowned. Their eyes connected. Tears in hers, more disbelief in his.

The words left her mouth and his jaw clenched.

'You need to leave Sirius.'

'And you must not come back,' added her dad.

She nodded, her lip trembling. Sirius scowled. Grey eyes boring in her own.

'Yeah. It'd be for the best,' she echoed her parents' sentiments.

Hermione didn't know which was worse, the feeling she got when she'd said the words or the one she felt when resignation set in his eyes.

He'd given up on her.

He blinked at her, shook his head once and turned to leave. He stepped out her door and her legs felt wobbly.

She sat on the bottom step.

'Finally!' exclaimed her mum. 'Now we can move on. Right Hermione?'

She nodded slowly, numb. Goose flesh broke out on her skin. Her vision blurred from unshed tears. She shivered from the cold.

'I need a jacket,' she mumbled and made her way back upstairs.

She was on autopilot. Her actions barely registered.

But then she saw it.

His leather jacket.

Hanging in her closet, hidden away. She reached for the soft material and her chest ached.

The way he'd looked at her that night... and the way he'd looked at her now...

She didn't want that to be the last thing she remembered about him.

She didn't want this to be their last memory.

She didn't want _him_ to be a memory.

A missed opportunity.

A failed chance.

She didn't think.

Hermione grabbed her slippers, ripped the jacket off its hanger and threw the door open. She tore down the steps and her parents' yelled exclamations barely registered.

She stared them down, her mum's wide eyes- knowing. Her dad... he looked at her like she'd gone mad.

But she hadn't.

For the first time in her sodding life, she was doing the only thing that made sense.

'I'm sorry,' she said and reached for the door.

'Hermione!' they shouted, their voices one but she didn't stop.

She ran down the steps and searched the street.

He was turning the corner and she ran after him.

Heart pounding in her ears, she managed to reach him and grabbed him by the elbow.

He turned with a frown that quickly fell away. Pale eyes widened.

'Hermione?'

She smiled up at him and he smiled back with sudden realisation and she knew- she _fucking knew-_ this was the right thing to do.

'Run away with me,' she said, echoing his words from a year ago.

He didn't even blink.

'Gladly.'


	4. Lumos

So many thanks to my beta TheUnrealInsomniac for his wonderful support and speedy work.

* * *

 **Pick**

Lumos

* * *

 _The Temper Trap - Science of Fear_

(acoustic or original, both fit the chapter's tone)

Recommended by Anon on tumblr

* * *

She may or may not be having a panic attack.

Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, she was hyperventilating and sweat was flooding out of her, running down her face and back.

Granted, she wasn't in that field of medicine so she couldn't be sure. For all Hermione knew these were the warning signs of a stroke or pulmonary embolism- severe constipation. Really, the jury was still out.

She'd been fine when Sirius grabbed her by the hand and fled down the street to where he'd parked his motorbike- because _oF COURSE_ he had a motorbike. She'd been alright as he drove. Had been peachy when he stopped on the outskirts of town and settled into a quaint bed and breakfast. All that and still fine.

The problem came when she entered the room and he closed the door behind them. Suddenly the room was too hot and small and she was dizzy and- _Boom!_

Instant panic attack!

No assembly required and all for the low, low price of fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.

She'd run away from home.

Well not really, because she wasn't technically living there. Also she was an adult. But the point remained the same.

Hermione Granger had defied her parents.

For a bloke she didn't know.

She had literally flipped her life around... for a bloke.

 _Who the hell did that?_

What _sane_ person did that?

Apparently she did.

Realisation roared into her and she understood far too late.

She was a bloody idiot and this had been a mistake.

Hermione Granger did not do shit like this. She did not dictate her life based off her feelings and especially for the unknown. And most definitely not for a boy.

Except she had.

And this was a mistake.

A severe lapse in judgment.

Her breathing eased and she stood from the crouching position she'd taken on the bed. When had she got on the bed? Didn't matter. It creaked beneath her as she moved and she didn't so much as look in his direction as she made her way towards the door.

If he hadn't spoken she may have left.

Except he did and so she didn't.

'That it then?'

Her hand was around the doorknob. All she had to do was twist and pull.

That was all. A flick of her wrist and she'd be well rid of him.

Her traitorous eyes had different plans though.

He was sat on the window seat, arm propped up on his bent knee. Slate coloured eyes gone dark. His expression closed off, almost bored.

He looked the role of the bad boy rock star who broke hearts and didn't give a single fuck about it.

This, her gut clenched, had to be what and who he actually was. The whole relaxed and fun air had to have been the facade. And she'd fallen for it.

She was a sodding idiot.

Whatever his feelings, he was successfully shutting them down and she couldn't read him. But the sniff he gave spoke volumes.

It'd been mocking and demeaning. An insult without words.

She whirled around, staring him down.

'Who the fuck do you think you are?' she hissed.

He didn't even bloody blink. Her outburst hadn't caused any kind of action. If anything, he looked even more bored.

'I'm no one. Just a bloke asking a question.'

Her hands curled and clenched. Biting and unsaid words on the tip of her tongue. Waiting- _just waiting-_ for the perfect opening. All the while he kept looking on, unimpressed by the inner turmoil of it all.

'Is this the bit where you bitch about how as a rich boy I wouldn't understand? How I can't possibly know what you're going through because our situations are completely different? And then you run back to Mummy and Daddy and live happily ever after with your gay husband?'

'Fuck you.'

'So eloquent.'

'Shut up Sirius!'

He did and a loud silence settled over the room.

The words she'd had in mind faded away. This wasn't how she'd imagined the argument going. Her words had been stolen from her by the damn idiot and turned around on her, making her feel stupid and melodramatic.

And still, he kept on keeping on with his staring.

She felt herself go on the defensive and, just as quickly, getting annoyed.

'Not everyone had the money to do what you did,' she said.

It was more or less what he'd accused her of wanting to say and though it made her feel idiotic, it was the truth.

Her parents supported her. She didn't have a rich uncle who'd be able to support her like he'd had.

He didn't look away as he shrugged in agreement. 'True.'

And that was all he'd said as he looked her over.

Okay. She was seriously starting to feel cheated out of a really good argument.

Hermione shook her head, sniffing. _'True?_ That's it? That's all you're going to say?'

He shrugged, a hand reaching up to take off his beanie. Tattooed fingers combing back his hair.

'What do you want me to say?' He eventually asked when it became clear she wasn't going to answer him.

Why she hadn't left as the silence lingered, she had no idea.

'I could argue back and then you'd yell some shit about me not knowing your problems and how I shouldn't judge cos I'm rich and you're not etc. etc. etc.,' he said. A bored expression on his face as a flippant hand waved through the air. 'Nah. I'm not doing that. If you want to leave, the door is right there. Go on. I'm not going to stop you.'

Oh, he could fuck right off.

Him and his blasé attitude. He could quite frankly shove it up his arse.

Hermione turned back around and reached for the door. A turn of the knob and it opened.

'Best of luck love.'

'Piss off.'

 _Rude bitch._

 _What'd you call me you buggering donkeyjohnny?!_

She closed the door without realising it and turned back around. A traitorous laugh threatening to bubble over.

'The first words I ever said to you were... piss off?'

A flicker of something showed in his eyes, making them light up. He smirked, huffing a laugh. 'Yeah... I think they were...? Followed by buggering donkeyjohnny,' he finished with laugh.

She failed to stop her giggles and leant against the shut door.

The tension loosened in the atmosphere and her frayed nerves began to settle.

Their laughter died away and she sighed. The sound made him look up at her. His smiling face at ease and back to what she'd come to know. A jolt shot through her and she licked her lips looking away.

That smile and that gaze aimed at her like that. Damn.

Damn, damn, _damn._

He was fucking gorgeous and he did things to her without even moving.

Things she liked but ultimately they weren't a prelude nor a promise for future happiness. It was biological and hormonal and a false reality. Love stories, real love stories took time and patience. They didn't happen on a whim.

In the real world and in the grand scheme of things, what she'd done was illogical and dumb.

'I shouldn't be here,' she murmured to the floor because it was fucking easier and she was a coward.

'Probably not.'

'Logically,' she said. 'This isn't the best choice for me.'

He didn't say anything for a long time and neither did she. The window seat squeaked from under his weight and the wooden floor creaked beneath his feet.

'Probably not,' he said again, his voice low.

Hermione licked her lips. 'I should leave.'

His Converses came into view. Her breathing was shallow. She was breathless and fucking hell, so was he. She could hear it.

'Yeah. Maybe.'

His voice was doing that low and husky thing again. The one she liked.

Her eyes moved up and up, slowly but surely until she was looking up at him.

Sirius didn't speak, he didn't even move. He simply stared. Beautiful silver eyes roaming over her face, taking her in.

'I'm scared,' she said.

The words unbidden and painfully honest but there they were. Spoken and out there for him to judge as he saw fit.

'I know,' he replied and all her mind could come up with was, _how could he?_

He seemed to know what she was thinking though. 'No matter who you are or your situation, it's always hard going against your parents' wishes.'

'You had an uncle who supported you. I have no one.'

'Is it just the money that's an issue for you?'

 _Yes._

That's what she almost said but caught herself.

It wasn't just the money, though it was a huge contributing factor.

It was mostly her parents and the years of conditioning she knew she'd been exposed to. It was the act of rebellion. It was the act of independence that worried her.

The last time she'd done something as reckless as this, she'd met him.

Then she'd married and divorced him within the space of a day and that single day had brought her days, weeks, hell a year of passive aggressive misery. Probably years more of it too.

What if this- whatever this undefined thing was between them- didn't work out and she had to go back?

She'd suffer for the rest of her life because of it.

She needed answers. She needed an explanation. She needed facts and concrete information to ground her.

'What are we doing here Sirius? What is this?'

The Marauder blinked and shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips. 'Fuck knows,' he laughed. 'I hadn't really planned on this. I'd just wanted to talk but then you ran and yeah... fuck it!'

He rubbed the back of his head, a perplexed expression on his bloody gorgeous face, making the sodding prick look adorable while doing it.

She wanted to kick him cos of it.

'That's not good enough an answer. What's going on here Sirius?'

It took him a minute to answer. It'd felt like forever.

'I need a new assistant? That's not- I mean - it's a job? Could help tide you over for the time being. Until we figure shit out?'

Hermione blinked. This conversation was all over the fucking place.

'You don't have an assistant?'

He frowned at her. 'Huh? Oh! Yeah of course I do.'

'Then why do you need a new one?

'Right. Fair point, yeah,' he said pulling out his mobile and tapping away at the screen with his thumbs. He looked up after several seconds. 'I just fired her. I need a new assistant. Interested?'

'You what?!'

'I just fir-'

'What the hell is wrong with you?! Hire her back!'

He actually looked incredulous. Like _she_ was being the irrational one!

'Alright, alright. Keep your knickers on. No need for all that screeching this early in the morning,' he said tapping away. 'There. Luna is rehired. No problem.'

Hermione rubbed her face, groaning.

Everything about this was a mess.

It made her feel like the metaphorical, plastic bag floating in the wind. The one that art freaks got a hard on over.

Speaking of … _hello_.

He saw her looking at it and he didn't look embarrassed in the slightest.

'Sorry,' he said smiling.

She looked away and it most certainly did not take all the strength in her to do it. Hermione cleared her throat, cheeks burning. Trying her damn hardest not to look again- stare?

She opened her mouth to say something but yeah, no. Nothing was coming up.

Well _something_ was definitely up but she-

'Can't you put it away?! I can't bloody think knowing it's pointing at me!'

'He's made his decision, sorry.'

'Sirius!'

He laughed and from the corner of her eye, she saw him reach into his pants and tuck himself away.

And she so did not miss the proud and joyful sensation than ran through her at the thought of it.

Fucking hell. Her bloody vagina was wildly out of control and her hormones were helping it along.

Her vagina needed a firm hand... or a firm dic- _stop._

'Hm?'

She'd said that out loud. _Lovely._

Hermione looked out the window because she was suddenly very acutely aware of the fact that she was in a bedroom with Sirius Black and he was hard and she was wet and there was a sodding bed behind him.

A year of pent up dreams and fantasies were threatening to boil over and she could feel his heated gaze on her.

This was wrong.

She needed answers.

Concrete information about where this was headed.

So she looked up at him, a firm resolve in her mind that melted away the second she met his eyes.

Her lips parted. She breathed in heavily as her heart pounded against his chest.

He moved into her space and the tightness she'd felt, coiled down lower. A delicious ache building.

'Sirius,' she whispered and he moved.

Soft pressure meeting her lips.


	5. Langlock

As always, Dave my love- thank you. Happy birthday.

* * *

 **Pick**

Langlock

* * *

 _Coldplay - Talk_

Recommended by Wotcher965

* * *

His lips were softer than they looked. His caresses even sweeter.

Her world was reduced to a seeking mouth and exhaled breaths.

A gentle suck and soft, nipping kisses. One, two, three. _Perfect._

Hermione was lost. The whole of her being focused on the feel of him. Searing heat coursed through her, her belly clenched.

Another gentle pull of lips, a slight flick of his tongue and he was gone.

She could only breathe.

A kiss on the corner of her mouth and her lips parted. The feel of his roughened hand against her neck sent chills down her spine.

Hermione turned, capturing his lips and stirring the ache between her legs.

He moved and suddenly she was pressed against the door and his hardness. Teasing lips moved more firmly and secure. She matched him and the heat between them intensified- burning her from the inside out. Demanding more. Needing more.

Again he pulled away and again, all she could do was breathe.

Chest heaving, lips tingling, Hermione opened her eyes and her idiotic heart fluttered in her chest.

Dark grey eyes watched her. An intensity swirling behind them that she understood far too much and yet still wanted to explore.

A twitch of his mouth. A slight shake of his head before he shut his eyes and exhaled deeply. His forehead met hers and she took advantage of the break … because she needed to.

Another taste of his lips and just as quickly, gone.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his breath mingled with hers.

Hermione was very aware of him. Of his skin on hers. Of his body, perfectly aligned with her own.

'My bollocks hurt.'

And just like that, the moment was broken.

Hermione shoved the idiot away, glaring. 'You arse!'

Sirius stumbled back an inch or two and moved no further. Really, it was a bit disappointing. Hard and roughened gestures should be met with an equally proportional response.

'What?' he laughed and she physical felt her glare go up a notch. He should've burst into flames where he stood but again, physics was shit.

Hermione didn't answer his question because what was she going to say? You ruined the moment? Yes, it _was_ true but it sounded so fucking clingy and desperate and despite all the confusion, she didn't want to expose herself any more than she already had.

'I'm sorry I ruined the moment,' he said, once again showing her his uncanny ability at reading her. 'But we had to stop. You know we did.'

She knew no such thing.

Idiot man.

If she hadn't stopped him, then it was because she didn't want him to. Until the word stop left her mouth then she was more than willing.

And she'd been very willing. _Was?_

Yeah. Still was. But she was too intimidated to start it up again now. Before had been instinctual, any moves now would have to either be spontaneous or planned cos as much as she wanted to, she was too damn embarrassed to put the moves on him.

Whatever he might be, he was still Sirius Black. Famous, talented and handsome to boot.

If he hadn't had every single move put on him by groupies all across the globe then... something. She sucked at analogies. Whatever.

She glared some more. He smiled.

 _Oh he could fucking do one._

Quite frankly he- his expression changed and Hermione frowned. He moved back that inch he'd lost.

'Did you not want me to stop?' he asked.

And not in a flirting, teasing way. More of a suspicious-squinty kinda way. She frowned some more.

He lowered his face, eyes boring into her own. He looked very unhappy all of a sudden and she wondered why when-

'You still a virgin?'

It took her a second to realise what he'd said and she shoved him away again.

Banshees had nothing on the noise she made.

 _How very fucking dare he?_

'What?!' she screeched, shoving him again for good measure, cheeks burning.

The Marauder's tone changed from one of suspicion to- there was no other way to put it- _authoritative._

Like the bloody prick had any right to that information.

'Go to hell Sirius!'

Slate coloured eyes studied her face and she fought the urge to squirm in case she gave anything away. Her face was a traitorous piece of shit though.

His smirk returned and that damn sense of dread he built inside her, bubbled up and ... yup there was that damn thrill.

Seriously, fuck her vagina.

 _Or he could?_

She needed better self-control.

Life was hard. And so was he. She could feel it. She also wanted to pet it.

Seriously. _Control._

Sirius hummed, his little smile doing wonderful things to her. 'Good.'

 _Good? -_ Oh right. He was being a sexist wank.

'That is none of your business.'

He wasn't listening though. His gaze travelled over her, lighting up every spot he looked. Over excited did not begin to describe what she felt.

Wrong.

This was wrong.

Really, her reaction to him was not healthy. It was dangerous and it had to stop.

Grey eyes met hers and that heaviness between them returned. She licked her lips and his eyes dropped down, following her tongue's movement.

It was strange. She simultaneously wanted to run away and remain rooted to the spot.

He did strange things to her damn it. She wasn't sure if she loved that or not. She'd decide later.

Sirius didn't look away from her, even as he took several steps back and she did _not_ fight down the impulse to reach out and keep him where he stood.

She had to swallow thickly and look away before she either jumped him or throttled him.

This infuriating, sexy, bastard of a man- _WANT._

Calloused fingers ran down her left arm, trailing a burning path that had a direct line to her pussy apparently. His fingers wrapped around hers and with a tug, she followed him to the bed.

A thrill shot through her at the implication and her heart raced when the mattress hit the back of her knees. Her willingness to be on it was a shameful thing.

The world faded away and was reduced to his clothed torso. Quite frankly, she was okay with that. Another lick of her lips and brown eyes travelled the length of him.

He still had that look in his eyes and the hollow ache in her chest grew a bit more.

He bent at the waist and took her breath away with another press of his lips. Just one.

It was more than enough to render her stupid.

He stepped back and away, moving back towards the window seat.

'We need to talk about this.'

Yes they did, but she honestly wasn't too bothered at the moment. She grabbed onto the edge of the bed with sexually frustrated fists. 'Yeah.'

A tattooed hand ran through his hair. 'I hadn't planned on you leaving your mum and dad's. I'd wanted to talk you into spending some time with me so I could get some songs out of you.'

She physically felt herself deflate at that and she looked away from him, not wanting him to see the effect his words had had. Almost immediately her brain went into chastisement mode. Not surprisingly, it sounded a lot like her mum.

'Oh,' she said. Trying and failing to hide the hurt those words had caused.

 _How could she have been so stupid?_

'Stop that.'

She looked up. Away from her shoes and back to him. Her throat locked, chest aching. Eyes stinging. Hermione shook her head not understanding.

'Don't get mad at me for telling you the truth. And that is the truth. I hadn't expected this ... I mean, yeah I'd hoped, but I hadn't expect it.'

She had to blink several times before his words registered. 'Sorry?'

The Marauder hadn't seemed to have heard her. 'Certainly makes shit easier though... I don't have to fight you on coming with me and I don't have to worry about winning you over since you're my girlfriend now...'

She choked on her spit. Still, the idiot man kept on talking.

'So ... that cuts down my trip by half.' He frowned, scratching at the back of his head. 'I hadn't planned on that... Shit. I'll have to go that bloody do... you'll have to wear something nice. I'll get Luna on it.'

She was still stuck on the girlfriend bit. Understandably, it took her a second to react.

Hermione shot up the second he pulled out his mobile.

'Sirius, stop!' she shouted, reasonably upset and growing angrier by the second. Shaking hands ran through her curls as she shut her eyes, shaking her head.

Nothing made sense and she hated that.

She was stood in the middle of a rose themed room, in her pyjamas and slippers. Wearing his leather jacket as he discussed buying her- his girlfriend- something nice which in her world meant a reasonably priced dress not name brand things that only the rich could afford.

'What the hell is going on?!' she asked him because honestly, she had no fucking idea anymore.

He had the audacity to look exasperated. He even rolled his fucking eyes and bloody, buggering hell she was going to stab him with one of those dry roses.

It'd probably have to be a repeat affair in order to cause any real damage but she had determination on her side, it was fine.

'Where did I lose you?'

Dry roses were too sharp an object. She would require something blunt.

'Start at the beginning,' she ground out through her clenched jaw.

The prick smiled.

Fuck it, she'd kill him with her bare hands. It'd be a much more intimate and fulfilling affair.

'Okay,' he said, eyes twinkling. And that twinkle? She didn't trust it. 'Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess who got pissed in Vegas and met a handsome penis-'

'Sirius!'

His laugh was too damn happy and joyful. It disgusted her.

'Okay, okay,' he said, laughing. Shooting up and placating her the second she turned, heading towards the door. 'Sorry. Sorry!'

He was still smiling though and his smile? It was fucking beautiful.

It made her heart stammer. It made her breath hitch. It made her belly flutter and her pussy throb.

It tempered her too and she hated that.

He led her back to the bed and sat beside her. Her mind raced with wonderful images again which she wanted to recreate in perfect detail.

Their eyes met and caught. His laughter died away. Her nipples hardened. It was a whole thing.

He seemed to realise it too because he looked away suddenly, loudly clearing his throat. He stood and quickly moved back to the window.

When he spoke, his voice was husky.

'You've been stuck in my mind Hermione,' he said. No sense of hesitation or a hint of embarrassment. It was a stated fact. 'The more I remembered, the worse it got. I thought I'd gotten over whatever the fuck this is but I was wrong. The second I saw you all this shit flared up again. I came because of my music but I've stayed because of you.'

Pretty words. That's all they were.

'When you reacted to seeing me like you did... it was a fucking relief. I'd expected you to slam the door in my face and turn me away but you didn't, so yeah.' His eyes were watching her, making her feel exposed. 'I saw you looking at me and- fuck!' He laughed, reaching for her hand. She happily obliged him. 'I swear i just wanted to talk to you today. Maybe woo you a bit with my awesome donut and coffee buying skills, but you're here now and I don't know what to do about that but I like it. You being here I mean.'

Sirius Black, rock star extraordinaire, was rambling and it was bloody adorable.

What's more, he knew it.

A side smile crossed his lips and he looked up at her through his fringe.

Hermione fought the urge to tuck it back. Instead, she took back her hand and sat on it. She looked at everything but him.

He was beautiful.

He was a rock star.

Sirius Black. The only thing she'd ever longed for in her life.

But that had been a dream. An unreachable and unattainable dream that shouldn't have come true.

It was time to come back to reality.

And he wasn't a part of that.

When she caught his eyes, his smile fell.

He really was able to read her. That fact both thrilled and saddened her.

'You shouldn't have come here Sirius. I'm sorry.'

Silver eyes hardened. His jaw clenched and his tone changed. 'Why?'

'Because you're not real.'

He frowned at that and she blinked away the stinging sensation in her eyes. As feeble and ridiculous as that answer was, it was the best she had.

How could she explain it to him that what he was offering her- what he represented- was nothing but a foolish fantasy?

Fact was, sometimes, Prince Charming was all wrong.

She stood to leave and this time, she wouldn't let him stop her.

Hermione should've known that wasn't going to happen.

He reached her as she reached the door. His body pressed against her back, blocking her from opening the door.

His soft lips pressed against the shell of her ear. Whispering. 'Do you remember why we were on a plane that night? Why we were coming back?''

Hermione frowned. She didn't and though curiosity was eating at her, she was dreading the answer. His hands moved to her waist, pressing her against him.

'You were going to tell your parents to fuck off.'

Her mouth fell open. 'What?'

She felt him nod, his movements ruffling her hair. 'You said you were done doing what they wanted. That you were going to live for you and sod them if they didn't like it. Told me to book a plane cos you wanted to do it face to face.'

She seriously didn't know how to respond to that. Sirius didn't seem to need a reaction though.

'You said you wanted freedom. To run risks and feel wild and when I asked you to run away with me, you didn't even hesitate...'

He had an erection. She could feel it. They were breathing heavy again and she pressed her bum into his hardness.

'What happened next?' she breathed out.

It took him a minute to answer. 'You ran back to your parents.'

He pulled away and she missed him. Her hand was on the doorknob.

 _Twist and pull._

Instead she turned.

'We don't make sense Sirius.'

'We don't have to.'

'Yes, we do! Healthy, _normal_ things make sense!'

He shook his head. 'We'll never be normal Muse. We aren't written that way.'

'I'm not like you. I can't drop things on a whim for a maybe.' She pushed away from him and the door, feeling trapped in the small space they created.

'Lav said you two will start university again in a fortnight.'

She nodded, once again confused by the sudden change of topic.

'She also said your mum and dad pay for everything cos they didn't want you to get a job.'

Another nod, followed by the slow and methodical plan to murder her best friend.

'They wanted me focused on my studies.'

'Give us until school starts- a trial period. Spend time with me and be my muse. I'll pay you for your time. Enough to last you a lifetime, royalties too if you'd like.'

Too many questions. One kept niggling more than the others.

'You said girlfriend...'

The corner of his lips curled.

'Yeah,' he said, scratching at his stubble. 'It's a bit weird. Haven't had one in years so I'll be rusty. Please don't hesitate to bollock me if I need it. Not that I doubt your ability to call me out on my bullshit but yeah. There you have it.'

'I'm your girlfriend?'

An innocent nod from the idiot. She resolutely refused to acknowledge the rush of butterflies attacking her tummy- which quickly starting attacking each other with the force of mighty ninjas.

She'd never had a boyfriend.

There had never been room in her life for one. Plus, her parents. If anything, Hermione was shocked that they had now decided she was fit for the dating world. That their gaydar was wildly out of date was beside the point.

She'd had flings and things with a few boys throughout her teen and now uni years but nothing had ever moved past a few snog sessions and touching. She sure as hell hadn't allowed herself to become emotionally involved.

And now here she was. The Girlfriend.

 _Wild._

'What does that mean?' She asked him cos she sure as fuck didn't know.

Hermione groaned. She was the girl, didn't that mean she was supposed to know? Something about her uterus and ovaries making her more in tune with feelings and shit?

'I don't know. It's been a while.'

She hummed.

'So what do you say?'

What did she say? What could she say?

No thank you and fuck off?

Yes please and take me?

Hermione frowned up at him 'Do you mean it about the money?'

'I'll tell the lawyers to draw you up a contract. Something similar to an assistant type of thing, except with royalties. I'll give you thirty percent of all sales and even credit you. I won't screw you over Hermione. Ever.'

She believed him and the more he'd spoken, the more excited at the idea she'd become.

Financial independence from her parents was a dream.

'What would I have to do?'

He smiled, clearly realising he was wearing her down. 'Same thing you did on the plane.'

Hermione frowned, trying to remember anything specific and came up empty. 'All we did was talk...?'

'Exactly. Just sit with me and talk.'

'And this whole girlfriend thing-'

'Yeah?'

'What does it entail?'

He shrugged, taking a step in her direction. Causing a thrill to run down her spine and a smile to pull on her lips. She tried to stamp it down but yeah, no.

'Well,' he said, dragging out the word. 'It gives you exclusive rights to me. As in all of this,' he gestured to his body. 'Will be yours. Likewise, you will be bound to me. As in no other dude can touch you. Feel free to experiment with women all you like though.'

'Right. I'll get right on that.'

'Please do.'

Another step. Two more and he'd be in her personal space again and fucking hell did she want that.

'When you say exclusively...?'

'Monogamous. I don't share.'

She looked him in the eyes. 'I don't either.'

He tipped his chin. 'Understood.'

'This seems like a really bad idea,' she said as he took one more step. Heart racing, a familiar ache building.

'I know... Feels right, don't it?'

 _Too fucking right it did._

'So what do you say Muse? Wanna give it a go?'

Her smile must've been answer enough because he took that last final step.

* * *

Having a boyfriend was fucking fantastic.

Having said boyfriend snog you senseless was even better.

Unfortunately, an hour into their bonding session his mobile had gone off.

Thirty minutes into his call, said boyfriend was looking decidedly unhappy.

'Alright?'

He shook his head. 'The party I'd told you about? It got pushed up by a week. Apparently, it's now a company party that will also count to celebrate the sudden retirement of the corporate branch's CEO or something, I don't know. Either way, instead of next weekend, it'll be this Saturday.'

'In six days.'

He nodded. 'Which means, I've got to go back to work.'

She sat up in bed, suddenly nervous about what this meant. They were so new and tentative, she didn't know how and where she fit into his life.

'Don't,' he said, stopping her. 'Don't get nervous like that. I don't like it.'

'I didn't.'

Sirius glared at her. 'And don't fucking lie to me either.'

 _We won't lie to each other, got it?_

 _Yes ma'am._

 _I'm serious. I won't have that shit Sirius._

'Sorry.'

He kissed her temple and she softly smiled because.

'It doesn't mean anything,' he said, trying to calm her already calmed nerves. Really, it was amazing how easily he soothed her. Also a tad frightening. 'The gig's up by a week, that just means our one week of lounging will have to be moved back and my working week will be moved up.'

He gave her that side smile she loved and she felt her own lips respond in kind.

'Still good?'

She nodded and pulled him on top of her as he moved to kiss her.

'Still good.'

Before their mouths could meet however, his mobile fired off again.

'Fuck's sake,' he growled into the bloody thing, 'I am snogging my fucking girlfriend! This better be fucking important!'

She didn't even try to hide her proud and happy smile.

He'd called her his girlfriend.

She was smiling like a goddamn idiot and she knew it and she didn't fucking care.

Everything was happening too damn fast and it was slightly overwhelming - but she wanted this.

She still had her reservations but that was who she was. There were still too many vague areas but she'd decided to give it those two weeks he'd asked for. If it worked, then they'd make it work. If it didn't, then she'd deal with the consequences as best she could. She'd at least be able to say she'd taken a risk with a rock star once upon a time.

Hermione looked on as he talked and paced the room and stored it in her Sirius Facts Vault: Sirius Black paced as he talked on the phone.

As he did, she studied the room. Roses everywhere and it smelled like cats. It wasn't too shocking though. Mrs Figg, local cat lady, and ancient owner of this particular B&B had very exact tastes. It meant the decor was dated but not without some charm.

Again he settled in next to her after he hung up.

'Fancy a trip back to London?'

Hermione looked up at him. 'I guess? Why?'

'Cos of work. Sound checks and shit. Plus, I want you to meet the rest of the band. Pete and James anyway, Moony still has to fly in from L.A. What do you say? Wanna meet my friends?'

She nodded cos words were a hard thing to process with a dry throat.

He started going off on a tangent about how they would like her and she would like them etc. etc. etc. but she was barely listening.

Hermione was suddenly very anxious because of yet another sudden and unexpected event:

She was going to meet The Marauders.


	6. Expulso

Many thanks to my wonderful beta for his speedy work. I am much thankful. Special thanks to _jasperandgemma_ over on tumblr for her beautiful and lovely fan art that made me squeal like a wee piglet. Again, thank you, thank you, thank you.

* * *

 **Pick**

Expulso

* * *

 _Foreigner - Jukebox Hero_

Recommended by desnoir

* * *

Hermione's life had taken a weird fucking turn.

Hours ago she'd been mourning the fact that she would have to move back home and give up her limited independence. Now, here she was. In a fucking helicopter, on her way back to London, after having dry humped Sirius Black.

Oddly enough, she didn't mind it.

Overall the brunette had to admit she'd been having an interesting day.

But now she was facing a very horrible dilemma. One which was upsetting beyond words.

She had to poop.

Logic dictated that she was being ridiculous and that she admit her problem. Embarrassment told her to shut the fuck up cos as far as the Marauder was concerned, nothing foul smelling came out of her ever.

Her tummy had gone past hurting and was now north of cramping. She felt gassy and tried her hardest not to move lest she farted and in the confined space of the chopper... there'd be no escape. No window could be opened. No fan to suction out the smell. She'd have condemned them to a Dutch Oven hell.

Seriously.

Fuck her life.

'Ten minutes,' shouted Sirius. 'And we'll be there!'

She nodded because a) her throat had suddenly gone dry at the thought of meeting his best friends and b) she was scared of crapping her pants. The force exerted when shouting seemed a dangerous thing at the moment.

Hermione looked out the window and thanked whatever deities there were, that she'd be free soon.

Fucking hell her tummy hurt.

Sirius squeezed her shoulder with the arm he'd thrown over her. She turned and found him eyeing her with a slight frown on his face.

Instant fucking alarm bells.

She knew that look now. She'd been on the receiving end of it enough times to know what it meant.

He was trying to figure her out and nope. Sod it all to bleeding fucking hell he was not going to know about her shitty problem.

 _Literally._

So, she did what any self-respecting person would do when faced with questions they did not want to answer.

She lied by omission. Giving him only half of the truth.

Hermione leant into him, speaking directly into his ear.

'I'm not nervous.'

She was clever.

That was a great, awesome excuse and she knew the second he accepted it. He smiled and gave her a peck of the side of her head.

'Don't be.'

Technically, it wasn't a lie. Okay, it was but it wasn't.

She was worried. Within hours, she was going to meet the men that had changed his life for the better. He loved them. If the interviews she'd caught online were proof enough, then all she'd had to do was ask about them.

His eyes lit up when she did. He'd been excited to tell her about them and yeah...

She wasn't exactly social. She was awkward as fuck and had a hard time making friends.

Hell. Half the people she was currently mates with she hadn't actually liked at first. Some had gone as far to admit that she'd grown on them as well. Like a fungus.

James 'Prongs' Potter was from the West Country. Remus 'Moony' Lupin was from the moors of Scotland. Peter 'Wormtail' Pettigrew from the Welsh valleys and Sirius 'Padfoot' Black from London.

 _The Marauders._

Somehow the four of them had found each other and against all odds, made it to the top.

Legend had it, that a drunken Sirius has stumbled into an equally drunken Peter and James as he'd made his way out of a pub.

Three drunken idiots with massive egos wasn't a recipe for politeness or understanding and so before too long they were carted away for drunk and disorderly conduct.

A night in jail did wonders apparently because the next day, the three were inseparable.

It was James' idea to start the band. Forced to sing in his church choir, he'd discovered his love of the limelight early on but had never really considered it a career choice. His mum and dad owned a hair salon and barbershop, he'd assumed he would take over the business one day. But then came Sirius with his guitar and songs and the bloke had decided that at nineteen, he was ready to become a rock star.

Peter wasn't bothered. A shrug, a nod and he was in. Sirius taught him to play bass and with time and practice, he'd become an exceptional player.

All they'd needed was a drummer.

They'd put up flyers. Posted adverts in online chat rooms and on music sites. They talked to people and used every means possible to spread the word.

They found him through a chat room and the four of them made up The Death Eaters.

James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and Edgar Bones.

They'd had creative differences from the word go.

Really, Edgar had tried to assume the role of the lead. He came in acting like he knew more than them because he'd been in other bands. He may have, to be fair, but his superior attitude didn't help. They clashed and fought but they worked as a cohesive unit and that they figured was enough.

Then one day, two months after Edgar had been hired, eighteen year old Remus Lupin came knocking.

Rucksack carrying, kilt wearing, shirtless and heavily tattooed he'd walked into James' dad shop and asked to speak with the band. He had a Carlsberg in one hand and a dirty flyer in the other when they met.

'Right lads, I'm here,' he'd said in a heavy Scottish accent. 'Let's get started.'

After a mystery meeting that the foursome refused to describe in detail, Edgar Bones was gone and Remus had taken his place.

It was Remus who'd changed the band's name. On their official first performance as a band, he'd told the club manager that a mistake in their name had been made.

'We're no _Death Eaters._ We're The Marauders!'

He hadn't told the other three and so a befuddled band had no choice but to play.

'Was like unicorns shitting out jewels and ejaculating whisky,' Moony had been quoted when describing that first show.

Within a year they had a record label contract and were touring the country as an opening act for a now defunct band. They drew in crowds. They got big. They got into shit and thus their reputations as bad boys grew, fuelling the band's popularity. That all four of them were handsome and charming helped immensely.

Sex, drugs and rock n roll and all that stuff.

Six years later, here they were.

On top of the world and she was going to meet them. The three blokes who were family to Sirius and whom he loved.

Her gut cramped and she clenched her arsehole and cheeks.

Fucking hell she really needed the loo.

She squirmed in her seat and Sirius squeezed her shoulder again. He kissed her temple and held her hand as they flew through London.

They'd been picked up an hour after Sirius' last call in the middle of an open field.

'What about your bike?' she'd asked.

The Marauder had simply shrugged. 'Hagrid will pick it up.'

The abundance of noise didn't let her ask who Hagrid was but as they began to ascend, it stopped being important.

The buildings grew larger as they began to land. A helipad, atop a big shiny building, got ever closer. A giant of a man, clad in a black, waited for them to land and stepped up when they touched down.

Sirius opened the door and helped her down, his hand holding hers as they walked off the landing pad. The closer she got to the bloke in black, the bigger he got.

The man was as wide as he was tall. A thick head of hair and an even thicker beard, she could just make out the man's beady little eyes. If she was honest, he looked terrifying and she was intimidated.

The giant nodded as he approached them. Sirius nodded back, throwing the bike's keys at him. Without breaking stride, the man caught them mid-air and made his way inside the chopper, the thing dipping under his added weight. Within seconds he was gone and another bloke in a suit was opening the door for them.

'Mr Black, welcome back sir."

It was weird how much those words filled her with dread.

'Who's here?' Sirius asked the man stood opposite her.

The bald man shook his head, earrings twinkling in the light. 'No one Mr Black,' he answered. His voice a low baritone, slow and steady. 'You're the first to arrive. Miss Lovegood is here should her services be required.'

Sirius squeezed her hand as he shook his head. 'Nah I'm good.'

There was no outward sign of it of course but Hermione couldn't help but think the new man was judging her.

The tall, black dude nodded once and resumed his silent demeanour as they waited for their lift to stop.

Hermione shifted from one foot to the other, once again attempting to ignore her physical needs. Sirius squeezed her hand and kissed her temple.

She suppressed a smile.

She really liked that he did that. It was sweet.

He chuckled and she glared.

Of course the bastard would know the effect it had on her- and just like that, her happy was gone.

How many girls had he done that to?

The thought made her gut ache. More shifting, another kiss and squeeze.

Fucking hell she had some serious gas to release.

Hermione pursed her lips and Sirius pressed his to her ear, throwing an arm around her.

'Don't worry Muse. It'll be fine.'

Sure it will, she thought. Cos needing to shit while meeting your friends isn't a recipe for disaster.

That was nothing to say of her pyjama/leather jacket and fluffy slippers ensemble. She chose to ignore her unwashed and uncombed state.

Fuck. Her. Life.

The lift stopped and its doors opened.

'Kings,' said the Marauder. 'Hermione needs to take a shit.'

She spluttered, choking on her spit. Her face burning as the long haired bastard continued to talk.

'Please see her to the loo and bring her back to the sitting area.'

She was going to disembowel him with a rusty spoon the second she emptied her own.

 _One massive shit at a time._

Loo first. Then him.

He smiled innocently at her and Hermione glared. Face burning as she followed behind the tall bloke who hadn't so much as blinked at Sirius' comment.

Just nodded and did as told.

White, pristine walls. Framed, gold records. Black, sparkly floor. Fake (real?) plants scattered about.

This here building was fancy. It made her feel like a country bumpkin.

The shiny had distracted her and so, in a move of total class and grace, she bumped into Dude's back wrinkling his perfect suit.

'Sorry!' She said, cheeks red.

Dude shook his head, smiling. Perfect, white teeth gleaming, a beautiful contrast against his dark skin.

'No problem Miss Granger.' He gestured to their left and her heart sang.

She said something- probably a rushed thank you or whatever as she pushed open the door.

 _Fancy, fancy, fancy._

Now, normally, she wasn't prone to emptying her bowels in public areas but desperate times called for desperate measures.

She ran into a stall and frowned.

Dude had called her by her last name. She hadn't told him. Nor had Sirius.

It was weird and suspicious but after a second, it stopped being important.

* * *

Hermione did what she could.

She braided her hair, her curls working their magic so she didn't need a hair tie. She washed her face. Gurgled water, rubbed her teeth with a moist paper towel. Washed under her arms and did what she could with her clothes.

All in all, she looked exactly the same except her hair was now braided.

Which made her feel like a fucking bum the second a beautiful blonde walked into the room.

Crisp, clean pencil suit. Brilliant, white dress shirt. Minimal make-up on her flawless skin. Bright, blue eyes behind black rimmed glasses.

Fucking bitch was pretty and she hated her for it.

'Hello,' said the girl and her voice was soft and sweet, eyeing her appearance. Paying close attention to the leather jacket in particular. 'My name is Luna and I'm Mr Black's assistant.'

Luna, opened the portfolio she'd been carrying and pulled out several sheets of paper.

'I was told by Mr Slughorn, the band's manager, that Mr Black had brought a companion. Now,' she said, setting down paperwork on the coffee table before her. 'I understand that circumstances being what they are, that you would believe this arrangement between Mr Black and yourself as long term but as his behaviour shows, this is not the case. These are annulment papers-'

Hermione frowned, shaking her head. She opened her mouth to speak but was stopped before any words could form.

Luna shook her head. 'Please,' she said, exasperated. 'Let me finish... You will be given a ten thousand pound sum for this inconvenience as well as transportation to any location of your choosing. You may keep any and all gifts given to you. In return, Mr Black and his legal team request that you do not try and contact him from this point on and that you not speak to the press about your time spent together. Unless it is to speak about his sexual prowess in which case, he is more than encouraging.' She gestured to the paperwork- to the annulment papers. 'Please sign or write your initials on the highlighted areas.'

The blonde's hand hung in the space between them, an expectant look on her face as she waited for Hermione to reach for the pen.

She opened her mouth to explain but-

'Miss. I know this is unexpected and that promises were made and life experiences shared etc. etc. etc. but I guarantee you that this is the best of two outcomes. Mr Black's legal team are talented piranhas and will not hesitate to destroy you. I've seen it happen. Please. For the love of God, just sign the damn papers.' She reached into her portfolio and pulled out an envelope. 'Ten thousand pounds Miss. That's a good hefty sum. Don't try for more.'

She gaped like a damn fish. Stuck between stupid and incredulous.

Hermione stood, anger fuelling her blood, making her see red.

This fucking bitch, who the hell did she think she was?

A mistake apparently.

Another one of Sirius' groupie wives intent on taking his money and skipping away ten thousand pounds richer.

Ten thousand pounds, she thought with a jolt.

Twice what these fuckers had originally paid her.

 _Oh they could all fuck off._

'Listen you bloody fucking cunt,' she started. 'You and Mr Black's legal team can shove these papers up your ars-'

 _'Hermione?!'_

Both women turned towards the door, a petite redhead stood in the doorway. A wide smile on her face. Beautiful green eyes aimed at Hermione.

'Hermione?' asked the Cunt. Blue eyes wide as her mouth fell open. 'Hermione Granger?'

'Yes!' Shouted the redhead stepping into the room. Arms raised in victory. 'Hermione-Fuckin'-Granger! At long sodding last.'

A pale hand reached out for hers. 'I'm Lily, this is Luna.' she gestured to the gaping Cunt. 'I'm James' assistant and Luna isn't normally a bitch of this magnitude. You gotta understand. She's done this crap a few times already this year. Isn't exactly happy to do it either.' The petite redhead reached for the papers and shoved them at the Cunt. 'These aren't for you. Obviously, Luna hadn't looked at you properly, if at all, otherwise she would've been nicer. Again, she's done this a fair bit and had it down pat. Which is both sad and horrible. Some cry. Wife number five even tried to stab her.'

Hermione turned to the Cunt. She couldn't really blame wife number five...

Nor could she blame the Cunt.

 _Luna,_ she supposed.

The blonde shut her mouth, looking sheepish. Her flawless complexion tinting pink. 'Sorry,' she said and she did sound it. 'It's... just best to do it fast and hard. Like pulling off a plaster.'

'For you or the wives?' spat Hermione.

Okay.

So maybe she was still pissed.

 _Seriously._

Fuck this day.

'Oookay,' said the redhead, Lily. 'Claws back in ladies. Frankly, I think we need to all take a moment to-'

The door slammed open as a grunting mass burst into the room and fell on the floor.

'Don't you fucking do it, you piece of shit!'

'Fuck you Sirius!'

'Do it!

'Shut the fuck up James!'

A laugh broke out which turned into a wheeze.

'You're choking Pete!'

'He's not the singer! As long as his hands are fine we're good,' grunted Sirius.

'Just... want to... say... hi.'

With a heave, Sirius was pulled back by Dude.

'Let go of me!' He shouted, spit flying about, looking like an attack dog with rabies. 'You fucking touch her and I'll fucking kill you!'

 _What. The. Fuck?!_

A laughing James Potter pulled up an equally amused Peter Pettigrew. Both men pointing and laughing as Sirius tried and failed to escape the taller bloke's hold.

'Calm down Mr Black,' said Dude. 'They're just trying to get a rise. They mean nothing by it.'

'Like fuck they do!'

'Yeah,' laughed Peter Pettigrew. 'I just wanted to say hi.'

Wrong words.

Sirius struggled harder, 'I know what that means!'

That just made the other two laugh harder. To her right, she heard Cu- _Luna_ sigh. To her left she heard Lily shout.

'That. Is. Enough!'

Peter snorted. James started, turned, found and glared something fierce at the petite woman.

Not to be outdone, Lily put her hands on her hips, staring him down. Had physics done its job, The Marauder would've burst into a mushroom cloud from the sheer amount of nuclear force her glare inspired. But again, physics was an arse.

'I asked you for water six hours ago Lily,' sneered James Potter. 'Where the fuck is it?'

'I don't know _James._ Wait six more and find out.'

'Hermione?'

'-Don't fucking talk to her!'

Peter Pettigrew was fucking gorgeous.

The blond bloke had nothing on Sirius of course.

He wasn't the tallest of the lot. He wasn't the thinnest. He was the least wild one too. All these facts should have hinted at him being the least popular Marauder but that wasn't the case.

Because Peter Pettigrew was charming as all hell.

He had a beautiful smile and an easy going attitude. Really, dude was chill

Sirius was her favourite Marauder but this man... he was a close second.

'Hi,' Peter said, taking her in. Eyes twinkling and his smile bright. 'Nice jammies.'


	7. Confundus

Thank you Dave. Your hard work and unending support helps push me through.

* * *

 **Pick**

Confundus

* * *

 _Fleetwood Mac - Dreams_

* * *

'T-thanks,' she stammered at the compliment, her cheeks burning something fierce. 'I-it's from the- the Ben Sinclair series.'

Peter Pettigrew's smile grew and she choked on her spit which was not at all embarrassing. Thankfully Lily was nearby and helpfully thumped her on the back.

But only for like a minute.

As the room sat in silence.

And watched.

It was nice.

'I know. I recognised the crest of Albert's Shield,' he said pointing at the nearest design ... which so happened to rest on her pubes.

'Y-yeah.'

Ever so casually, she moved her hands over the area, shielding it from the Marauder's erect digit.

 _Smooth._

'Stop pointing at her vagina!' growled Sirius from somewhere in the room.

'I'm not,' defended Peter over his shoulder, grin out in full force. 'I'm admiring her pj choice.'

Actually, not to be technical or anything but he kinda was pointing at her vagina.

Really, she should have said something but she didn't know what. She'd never been confronted with this scenario nor had she ever expected it to happen. Was she supposed to say something?

 _Stop pointing at my vagina please...?_

 _Stop pointing at my vagina!_

This was a weird day.

Aaand he was still pointing.

'That _is_ her vagina Pete. Please st-'

'I heard the word vagina.'

She did a double take when Remus Lupin walked in.

Light brown, curly hair that reached past his shoulder blades. White T-shirt, ripped jeans, leather bracelets, heavily tattooed and a pierced eyebrow which was raised in question at Lily who had last spoken.

For some reason he was carrying a mini teacup poodle.

A squeal was ripped from the redhead who ran towards the drummer and just as quickly snatched up the pup.

'Oh my God!' She gushed. 'Look at her! She's adorable!'

The drummer scratched behind the puppy's ears with a nod. It's little tongue attempting to lick his bigger hand.

'That she is Lils.'

'What's her name?'

'Voldemort.'

 _'Voldemort?'_ asked James, stepping closer to snatch up the wittle aminal with one large hand until they were eye to eye.

The tiny dog looked like a damn teddy bear and she wanted to cuddle it.

'Yeah,' nodded Remus Lupin. 'It's French. Means flight of death.'

'Flight of- what the fuck kind of name is that?' asked a disgusted James Potter, handing the doggie back to Lily.

'You never been on a ten hour flight with a baby, a nervous bloke and a puppy have you mate? But never mind that, I heard vagina.'

'Yeah. Pete's pointing at Hermione's.'

 _'Who's?'_ Light brown eyes scanned the room, found Peter and then her. His grin morphed onto a full on laugh as he studied her. 'Hermione?'

Her name sounded good on his lips. His Scots accent added a little something extra to it, making it sound aggressive.

Before she could reply, Sirius made his presence known.

'Don't fucking do it!'

Remus turned wide innocent eyes to the Marauder as he continued his struggle against Dude.

'Why, whatever do you mean?' he asked, eyes wide.

His innocence wasn't to be believed though. Not since he'd taken deliberate step towards her and now stood next to Pete, eyeing the bass player's hand.

'Why you fingering her mate?'

'MOONY!'

'I wasn't,' laughed Peter, eyes on Sirius before turning to Remus, pointer finger still aimed at her bits. 'I was talking to her about her pajamas.'

Remus squinted, tilting his head. 'Oh. Aye. They would be from the Ben Sinclair books?'

'Yeah. I was admiring Albert's Shield... which she's now covered with her hands.'

Remus Lupin tsked, shaking his head. 'That's verra rude. Here ya are, trying to admire art and she stops you.'

'Agreed,' said James Potter from somewhere behind them. 'You should take a closer look.'

'Don't!' shouted Sirius, his struggles loud and clear. 'Remus I'm fucking warning you!'

'Quiet Sirius. Men are talkin'.'

Somehow the bloke had managed to move her hands and before she knew it, two Marauders were kneeling before her, completely level with her vagina.

Best. Day. Ever.

 _Did-Did she put her hands on their heads...?_

Cus she'd be completely okay with that.

Hermione swallowed thickly. She knew she was bright red but at that moment, not a single fuck was given. A vicious growl brought her back and she turned in time to see Sirius' continued struggle. A snicker by her navel made her blink.

That's right, Remus and Peter were worshiping her pussy.

'-hat's the shield from book six mate.'

'No it's not ya numpty. It's the film version. The one his wife made.'

Pete moved to take a closer when-

'Oi! Mate,' said Remus, suddenly stopping him. Golden eyes looked up at her, at her Albert's Shield/vagina and then Pete. He looked confused as if just now aware of their situation. He shook his head. 'This is wrong. Verra wrong,' he said before unceremoniously putting her hands on top of their heads. 'There. That's better.'

'Feel free to give a tug,' said Pete with a wink at her, forcing heat to race up her spine.

James laughed, Remus snickered and Sirius continued to bitch.

'Okay, guys I think that's enough,' said Cu _-Luna,_ startling her.

Hermione had actually forgotten she was there.

'Leave Hermione alone. You've had your fun, Sirius is pissed off and we all had a laugh. Jokes over now.'

'Yeah,' said James with a shake of his head. 'No.'

'Sorry Luna,' Peter said, 'Moony and I need to settle this.'

Beside him, Remus growled and shook his head. 'Still doesn't feel right.' He looked back up at her. 'Would ya mind moaning my name lass?'

'No.'

 _'WHAT?!'_

She clapped both hands to her lips as her cheeks burned with even more damn heat which should've been impossible. Laughter broke out across the room and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a fucking hole and die.

And then she thought about the whole situation and a giggle threatened to escape her as she realised what she'd said.

 _No, she wouldn't mind moaning his name._

Technically, it wasn't a lie. In fact, Hermione doubted there'd be few people in the world who'd mind moaning Remus Lupin's name.

'Let go of me!' shouted Sirius and this time, Dude obliged him. The angry Marauder stalked towards her, shoving his laughing band mates aside. The prick proceeded to grab her by the hand and marched her down the hall into another room.

The second he shut the door behind him, Hermione found herself pressed against the door. Anger fueled lips staking their claim as callused hands pressed her softness into his hardness and her every cell flared with heat.

His hands were everywhere and though she should have minded, she couldn't help but moan as a calloused thumb caressed her covered nipple.

Her heart was racing. She _ached_ for him and the whole of her focus zeroed in on the pressure he was creating between her legs.

Warm lips coaxed her tongue and teased her lips. His desperation changed into something less that hinted at so much more and she returned his heated caress.

Hermione gasped as a heavy hand cupped her breast, dark eyes fluttering shut as his mouth trailed down her neck.

'Sirius.'

The Marauder groaned, his hand leaving her breast, moving down and lower still, building in her a desperation she'd never known she could possess.

His fingers traced the skin beneath her navel. A feather light touch that made her shiver.

He stopped and her eyes opened. Chest heaving, Hermione swallowed thickly as a familiar gleam shined behind his eyes, claiming her.

He cupped her face then. Teased her with a near kiss that made her long for more and then he was gone.

* * *

Hermione took off her slippers and Sirius' jacket as she settled in, finally realising that she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon so she may as well get comfortable.

Lily and Luna had visited her earlier to inform them that their band meeting was running a bit late but that it would be over soon. That'd been an hour ago now and still no sign of her boyfriend. At least she had the lap of luxury to entertain her.

Sirius had dropped her off in a high end waiting room. The type usually reserved for celebrities and people not accustomed to waiting on others.

Soft plush seats, fancy tables decorated with fresh flowers in sparkling vases. A huge television decorated the opposite wall. To her right stood a ceiling to floor window, London's skyline as her vista. It was all quite pretty and unnecessarily expensive she was sure.

She rubbed her tired feet as she thought.

 _They all knew her name._

From Dude to Remus- they had all recognised her name and they'd all studied her in one shape or form... which meant... what?

 _That Sirius had talked about her?_

And more than once, going by the varied reactions.

Dude had stared. Lily had cheered. Luna had stuttered and The Marauders had baited him.

Also. They all seemed pleased to see her. Damn near relieved.

 _Hadn't one of them shouted finally?_

Shit was weird.

A bit flattering and she kinda liked it but she pushed down any happy she felt because she was just assuming at this point.

The fact remained however that they had all known her name. Which was nice. It hinted at him sincerely caring for her and only added credence to all that sweet shit he'd said earlier.

... Which also terrified her cos it implied that he sincerely cared for her. And as had been previously established, he scared the crap out of her.

Bloke could kiss though. The things he could do with his tongue...

Hermione shook her head, refusing to think about that for now. It was stupid. Pathetic really. It'd been the first and only time she'd had that done to her and she barely remembered it but she knew enough to know she'd fucking loved it.

'Oh God,' she groaned.

 _Would you mind moaning my name lass?_

 _No._

She hadn't even thought of her answer. She'd just... _said it._

Hermione stifled a giggle between her hands and quickly dropped them since they smelled like her feet. And she'd touched her face with them.

Great.

The brunette sighed, turning to look at the table behind her, filled with fruit, bottled water and lots of other healthy looking crap that would be kind to her arteries but a bitch to her taste buds.

Nothing looked tasty. Everything was so... _brown._ And organic. And why the fuck was there celery in the water?

 _What was wrong with these people?_

 _Where was the bacon?_

Famous people, she thought as she sniffed the least offending muffin. Gluten-free said the wrapper and Hermione wondered if it would've tasted better if they'd just left the gluten in.

Also, what the fuck was gluten?

She didn't know, but if these Hollywood types thought it unhealthy then she was sure it was delicious.

She was hungry though. It was midday now and they'd given away the donuts to a stray dog.

A careful bite revealed that the banana bran muffin was passable. It wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible either.

Either way, she finished it and washed it down with celery water when her mouth got too dry. It'd been an odd combination, one she hadn't completely enjoyed but whatever. Food was food.

She was halfway through an apple when the door opened and in walked James Potter. The only Marauder not familiar with her groin area.

The bloke strode into the room, a soft smile on his lips as he reached her. Hermione frowned because the closer he got, the more she realised this dude wasn't the lead singer. This version of James had jeans and trainers on. No fancy suit, pointed shoes or crisp shirt in sight. Nothing that hinted to the chest cleavage, show pony wanker he was known to be. It was his face though- the similarities were uncanny.

Same hair. Similar facial structure. Even the glasses. They looked so much alike they had to be related.

'Hermione?' he asked with a voice she'd never heard before.

She nodded, shaking his hand as he reached out towards her.

'Pleasure to meet you,' said Not James. 'I'm Harry. Jamie's brother.'

Brother. Right. That made sense.

Now that she had a closer look she realised they weren't exact copies of each other but damn near. The eyes were the most startling feature. James' eyes were hazel, she'd read. Harry's were a beautiful shade of green. And he was shorter. Not by much but enough.

Younger brother then.

'Right,' she said, letting go of his hand. 'Nice to meet you.'

He gestured to the door behind him. 'Slughorn sent me in here when he found out you were here.'

She nodded because alright...?

Not James laughed, shaking his head. 'Their manager. I'm his assistant.'

Another gaping nod from her, cos all the eloquence was hers.

'He asked me to offer you this,' he said, handing her an envelope.

She didn't take it, already far too experienced with these people trying to hand her things. When she didn't take it, he beamed and tucked it away.

'Forget it. It's not important. Ready to go?'

That snapped her out of her stupor. 'Sorry?'

'Sirius,' he again gestured to the door. 'He told me to take you home? Said he'd text you?'

All she heard was take you home. On queue, her chest hurt and she felt sick.

'Sorry?' she said again cos she was good at the talking thing.

Poor Not James looked confused as he pushed up his glasses. 'Yeah... said you needed clothes.'

* * *

She'd been an idiot.

After Harry had dropped her off, she'd hurried up to her room, showered and dressed and then she'd waited.

And then she'd waited some more.

As the hours passed, her anxiety had morphed into worry which had given way to insecurity and now, the day after, she was fucked off.

Sirius never showed up. Didn't call or text.

 _To be fair, you did leave your mobile back at your mum and dad's. He may not know._

 _Doesn't explain why he hasn't shown up or sent a note._

 _Maybe he's busy._

It was sound logic and she'd told Lav to piss off. Curvy bitch hadn't seemed to mind, she'd just shaken her head and proceeded to tell her of the bloke she'd met on New Year's Eve.

'Scouse. Talks like shite but fucker's hung!'

Okay, it'd distracted her and she'd laughed and had even enjoyed talking about her initial meeting with the Marauders. it'd been fun and an exciting change as she rarely had the chance to gush about guys, usually it was her doing all the listening and giving soothing words of comfort. All good things come to an end though and when Lav started to yawn, she sent her to her room.

Sleep didn't come and two days later, she'd accepted the inevitable and understood that she'd been dumped.

Wife number whatever without the official title. Or large money offer. Not that she would've accepted it or anything but sometimes, it was the thought that counted.

She was ashamed to admit that she'd cried. It was stupid of course, cos while there was nothing inherently _wrong_ about crying over a boy, she'd believed herself above such trivialities and this thing had proved her wrong. Apparently she, Hermione Jean Granger, could cry over boys.

It pissed her off.

She took down the one poster she'd managed to accumulate and deleted all their songs from her music library.

When Lav found out that Sirius had still not made an appearance, the bitch tore down her numerous posters, threw away all their CDs and vinyls in a thorough display of female solidarity. All while swearing vengeance and various threats for his daring to hurt her best friend.

 _I'll kill him with his damn guitar strings and shove his guitar so far up his arse he'll burp notes!_

Several bottles of wine had been bought and Lavender listened as Hermione bitched and cried. And then she proceeded to give her the greatest piece of advice ever known to humankind.

 _Fuck them fuck boys!_

Fuck them fuck boys indeed.

She didn't need him and this thing had been nothing more than a passing fancy... which had caused her to disobey her parents.

 _S_ he drank more wine.

And kept drinking well into the next day.

Normally, Hermione didn't indulge in drunken stupors but for this, Lavender assured her, it was perfectly fine. Add in the exceeding amount of stress she felt when her parents came to mind, Hermione felt no need to stay sober.

Eventually she would have to get over this.

Eventually, she'd have to break radio silence and call her mum.

Eventually she'd have to face them down the family table as they had a Family Meeting and inevitably begged their forgiveness for daring to defy them.

But not yet. Her pride had already taken a hit, never mind the pain Sirius and his lies had caused.

Just until this weekend, she'd told herself. Enough time to heal her broken heart and fucking hell did that not feel like an overly dramatic exaggeration.

She'd brought this on herself though. Hermione had _known_ what he was and still, she'd let herself be swept away by the fairytale of it all.

But never again.

'Fuck them fuck boys!' she said, before draining the rest of her wine glass.

A shake of the bottle on her nightstand revealed it empty. With a stifled yawn, she flopped down on her bed.

It was midweek, nearing midnight and the house was silent. The twins still hadn't returned from their overseas family trip and Lav was once again in lust and thoroughly enjoying her youth and sexuality via a bloke she'd met on some app.

Yay for having a vagina and enjoying the hell out of it without societal expectations bringing you down.

Also yay for maintaining your decision to remain a virgin until love.

 _Yay for Girl Power, Spice Girls and wine!_

She lifted her glass in salute and frowned at the emptiness of it. She needed more wine but the fridge was Too Far and like... twenty steps away. Too much work really.

Plus, she didn't need it anymore.

Nope. Not when she had awsome friends, her brains and a plan.

Okay. She didn't have a plan _yet_ but she would. Soon. Cos this mopey version of her wasn't _her_ and she wanted to be her again.

Sirius didn't matter. Fuck boys didn't matter and she didn't care.

At. All.

And Sirius Black could go fuck himself.

Her eyes fluttered shut and the glass tipped to the side, barely stirring her fingers.

* * *

Never again, Hermione swore to herself, would she drink again.

Her head was aching and she really wasn't in the mood for noise but needs were more important than her wants. And what she needed was a hangover cure cos her previous two days of heavy drinking had finally caught up to her.

And her cure usually came in the form of a tattoed pixie intent on "expanding her world."

Normally, Hermione didn't like judging other people's musical choices, she tended to like mellow and chill, organic tunes so she couldn't understand how anybody would label shrieking men and women as music.

Then again, most people didn't march to the beat of their own drum.

'Dude! Have you heard this bloke who plays dustbin lids like drums and remakes famous rock songs with them? It's fucking awesome! His name is Xenophilius Lovegood. Has a new album out, The Rotfang Conspiracy.'

Hermione frowned at the pink haired Wiccan sat across from her. 'That's a terrible name.'

'It's not his best,' admitted her darling neighbor. 'But it's definitely not his worst. His last album cover was-' at which point she started to gurgle and make unintelligible sounds.

The brunette blinked. 'How does one go about spelling that?'

Tonks shrugged. 'Don't know. Doesn't matter. Names are metaphysical manifestations forced upon society to achieve a level of normalcy. Who and what a being is should be a natural realisation, not forced upon it the moment of its creation.'

Hermione hummed, wondering if that was her honest belief or the justification she used for renaming herself Nymphadora.

'More beverage?'

Hermione nodded, extending her cup as Tonks refilled it with more juice. 'Thanks.'

The witch nodded and moved towards her door when a knock rang out. The sound doing a number on her head. Thankfully, Tonks' home remedy was working it's miracle and lessened her pain, all while tasting delicious. The woman was a goddess and she loved her.

Her musical choices though were still an acquired taste.

As an artist herself, Tonks tended to like the abstract and strange. She saw beauty in things that others would deem as garbage and heard music in the most annoying of sounds.

Which also helped explain her love of pineapples on foods that ought not contain pineapples.

'Pizza's here,' she said, reaching for her purse as a rhythmic pounding began.

She turned towards the door and her eyes widened as the door opened to reveal a smiling Remus Lupin beside an excited but confused looking delivery boy. Both stood in front of an anxious looking wank of a bastard.

'Remus Lupin and Sirius Black,' greeted a smiling Tonks as she paid, 'Thank you for delivering to us our sustenance. We appreciate it.'

At which point she grabbed the pizza and shut the door on their face.

Laughter broke out behind the door as Hermione blinked. Completely unfazed, Tonks proceeded to open the pizza box and dug into her pineapple filled meal. Another knock rang out and the pink haired woman shut her eyes in exasperation.

'Why,' she groaned, 'Must heterosexual men be so vexing?'

* * *

 **A/** **N:** Voldemort is a tea cup poodle, Harry is James' brother and Tonks is a pink haired Wiccan with a love for that which is strange.

I'm having fun :)

Seriously, there's a kind of freedom with AU fics that lets your mind run wild and free and I absolutely love it. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you all for reading and please review.

Erica x


	8. Alohomora

Many thanks to _Theunrealinsomniac_ for his speedy beta work and countless hours as my soundboard. If it wasn't for you, this chapter wouldn't have been finished. Without your endless encouragement, I would have never written.

Dave ... you frustrate me. You infuriate me. You make me laugh and smile everyday. You call me on my bullshit as required. You push me on a fairly regular basis and believe in me when I don't.

You make me better, and I love you with everything that I am.

Happy four year anniversary.

* * *

 **Pick**

Alohomora

* * *

 _Tame Impala - Feels Like We Only Go Backwards_

Reccomended by jasperandgemma

* * *

Hermione stood as Tonks sat down her pizza box and turned. 'Don't!'

But she was too late. The petite Wiccan had already opened the door and, hands on hips, was staring down the taller blokes and the Pizza Boy.

'Yes? How may I be of service?' she asked. Her tone completely conversational and unfazed.

Eyes darted from the pink haired woman to Remus, who was at his side. Dark eyes wide and mouth gaping.

Remus was likewise entranced and she knew this because she was completely and _absolutely_ ignoring the fuck out of Sirius Black.

Everyone and everything was preferable than catching his eyes.

She felt embarrassed and awkward. Fucking uncomfortable and she wanted nothing more than to storm into her room and let everything sort itself out.

If she was lucky, Tonks would start spouting some gibberish, cursing them. Worst case scenario, they'd laughed at her. Best case scenario, Tonks succeeded and he became impotent.

Not that wishing pain and suffering onto other people was funny but he'd made her cry, therefore, he deserved it.

She really wanted to punch him in his stupid, perfect face.

And then, completely independent of her wishes, her fucking eyes caught his.

Beautiful, sad, grey enhanced by handsome features.

Hermione blinked, properly taking him in and suddenly she _saw_ him.

He looked tired. Pained.

There was more stubble on his face. His eyes looked bloodshot and there were dark smudges beneath them. Lips pursed into a thin line. He swallowed thickly, studying her face.

Her glare faded away and bloody fucking hell, tears welled up hard and fast and nO. Fuck _no_ was she going to show him how much he'd hurt her.

Hermione Granger didn't cry in front of boys who'd hurt her. She'd never cried in front of Malfoy and that pompous arsehole had made her life hell. Always teasing her and bullying her, telling her she was ugly one second, a nerd the next. All the crap he'd put her through only to steal a kiss at the end of sixth form. She'd pushed him back, punched him in the face and for good luck, kneed him in the bollocks.

Best. Day. Ever.

He'd made her cry but she'd never let him see. And here she was, about to cry in front of Sirius Black. The man who'd made a fool of her.

Fuck that.

She was a strong and independent woman, she was not going to let that happen.

Hermione squared her shoulders. Raised her chin and ran to her room.

Cus reasons.

Cowardice had nothing to do with it. Nope. Fight or flight etc. Self-preservation and such.

Her heart was racing. A knot had formed in her throat and she wiped away a stray tear with a trembling hand.

Fucking hell she was pathetic.

She was also embarrassed.

And so fucking _humiliated_.

She'd- this wasn't part of The Plan. There had never been room for heartache or heartbreak- whatever this was, it'd not been a possibility.

Strong feelings for a partner had not been an issue. She'd always sorta assumed she'd settle for someone plain. Moderately boring, if she was honest. A union of mind and shared interests as opposed to mutual attraction or feelings.

Then Sirius happened and her life had been thrown into chaos.

And as much as she hated admitting it, a part of her had liked it. Thrived on it. The lack of control and direction had made her feel alive.

With him having left, it'd only proved how utterly gullible she was. Made her see how much she'd given without being aware of having done so.

She'd been a cliché. No smarter than a teenage girl who fancied herself in love and thrown it all away for the boy her parents disapproved of.

This with her and him, it'd been exactly that.

And rather than face it head on, she'd ran to her room like a scared child.

All she needed now was to hide under the covers.

She absolutely loathed how tempting that was.

'Hermione?'

 _Fuck_.

She pushed herself off the door, backing away from it.

Eyes wide and unblinking, she held onto the doorknob with a hand, the other pressed against the wooden frame.

'Hermione, can I come in please?'

She shook her head and felt all the more stupid for it. Like he'd be able to see through the door.

Her silence had been more than answer enough though.

'Please love. We have to talk alright? Just- just hear me out please?'

His voice was muffled. Low and quiet. Like he was pressing his lips against the door so only she could hear him.

'Please?' he asked again and she bit her lip.

She should have said no. Told him to fuck off and to never return. She should've done lots of things but she'd never been quite that strong when it'd related to him. So she opened the door and moved aside as he entered the room.

Sad eyes watched her and focused solely on her face.

'I'm sorry.'

Aaaand that was all it took for her to snap.

'Fuck you!'

Oh, she was pissed. _OFF_.

How _DARE_ he show up here, looking like that? All sad and shit. Like _she'd_ hurt _him_.

First of all, fuck him. Secondly, he could kiss her arse. Thirdly, she- she... Hermione growled and shoved him but physics and shit, so she pushed harder. And harder and this time he moved a bit more but it still wasn't enough.

He'd hurt her.

Made her cry.

Made her feel things and then he'd fucked off like it'd meant nothing. Maybe to him it hadn't but to her, it had.

He'd stormed into her life, reshaped her world and suddenly there was colour. It was like her eyes had been opened and the monotone had faded. When he'd gone, it'd all dimmed.

And she hated him for it.

Because for the first time in her bloody miserable life, he'd made her acknowledge her unhappiness.

He'd made her want. Ache. Feel.

And then he'd made her doubt.

Worry.

Question her life as a whole- and dammit it all to hell, she was dramatic.

Point was, he'd made her see just how shite her life had been. He may have been the catalyst but now that her eyes had been opened, she couldn't go back to letting her parents guide her blindly.

Not again. Not ever.

'I'm sorry!' He blurted out as they struggled against each other. He, attempting to grab a hold of her hands as she continued to push against him. 'Hermione. Stop!'

She must've been a bit distracted, because one second she'd gone from pushing and shoving to having her arms pinned at her sides and him whispering in her ear.

Apologies. Murmured over and over again. Useless words meant to appease and soothe but which only caused her eyes to itch and burn.

She stopped struggling against him and moved her arms between them, nudging him away.

She managed to turn her head before the first tear fell, wiping it away before it reached her cheek.

Her back to him, she could feel his eyes boring into her. The silence between them, thick. It took several seconds for either of them to find their voice.

'Hermio-'

'What do you-?'

Hermione looked away, running a hand through her mass of uncombed curls. A steady awareness creeping through her hung over state to realise that she was unwashed and still in her pyjamas.

Seeing as she was usually hungover or in her night clothes when she dealt with him, this was quite fitting. It almost felt routine.

Unable to stand the hole he was burning into her back, she turned to face him and was met with the same sad eyes as before.

They hurt, she loathed to admit. Which was better than the familiar swoop of her belly at the sight of him.

It was horrible. Her brain wanted one thing, while her hormones and heart wanted another. Her stupid body needed to get in sync with itself.

'I'm sorry,' he said yet again. Pleading eyes, frowning lips, sad voice and all.

If she was honest, he came off as a bit pathetic which bothered her because she'd wanted that.

That mean, nasty bit of her that'd needed him to hurt, recoiled and flooded her with shame. As quickly as those feelings came, she pushed them away.

There was no room for them. Not when she was determined to remain strong.

She took several steps back, eyes trained on his nose because it was the lesser of all evils.

'What do you want Sirius?'

He took his sweet arse time in answering and she fought the urge to throttle him because of it.

She knew what he wanted and against her better judgment, she gave in.

The second their eyes locked, he took a cautious step forward and she raised a hand to stop him- to shield herself, to have some type of barrier between them. He obliged her and stopped moving.

'Can we talk? ... Please?'

He sounded desperate and a tug of something pulled at her chest as the knot at her throat throbbed painfully. A tear escaped before she was able to look away and he saw it.

'Hermione, please... give me a chance to explain.'

Again with the pleading tone and sad puppy dog eyes. It disgusted and infuriated her.

She struggled to swallow as her throat burned and still, the tears kept coming.

Hermione looked away. At her shoes. At the bed behind him. At the wall that used to hold the one poster she'd gotten of his band. She pretty much looked at everything in her room that wasn't him. Her hands twisting and fiddling at her sides.

'I think you should leave.'

Even she could hear the indecision behind her words. So naturally, he ignored her.

'It was Horace. He'd told me that you'd been notified of the change in plans. It wasn't until today that Harry told me about you not knowing where I was.'

Her pathetic little heart thumped to life at his words. She frowned. Blinking. Wondering what the hell he was on about as a disgusting sliver of hope threatened to bloom.

She shook her head. 'Sorry?'

The Marauder licked his lips, chest heaving. Looking like he'd run a mile and then some-just to get to her.

 _Stupid, lovelorn, fool me._

She needed to not romanticise things.

Sirius took a step forward and stopped just as quickly when she retreated. 'I'm sorry,' he said, taking two steps back.

She didn't know what to say. Well, no. That was a lie. She knew _what_ she needed to say. The problem lay in her actually having to _say_ them.

Both possibilities were horrible. If she spoke up, he'd go. He would. She felt it in her bones. Sirius would listen and fuck off at her request.

If she didn't, he'd stay and they'd go back to being whatever the hell they'd been: Girlfriend and boyfriend, yet oddly enough, still undefined.

She didn't want him to go but she also did.

Romantic feelings were complete and utter bollocks.

'Where were you?' she asked him. The words bitter and sour in her mouth.

'Liverpool and then Inverness.'

He was watching her. Like he was waiting for her to break down or something. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction?

A handful of tears were more than enough. That was all he would see.

Hermione blinked, licking her dry lips. Hands gripping her long top. 'Okay.'

Some more staring and he shook his head. 'Okay? That's it?'

'What do you want me to say Sirius?'

He shook his head. An angry gesture that was turning his frown into something ugly. Grey eyes flashed and his voice changed. 'So you don't care now, is that it?'

She really was over this.

'Please leave.'

'No.'

'Sirius.'

He took a few steps towards her and this time, she didn't move. They were a foot apart. He towered over her and still, she stood her ground.

'Leave,' she demanded and he saw it in his eyes, the moment everything registered.

Whatever he'd expected, her indifference or whatever hadn't been a part of it. He'd expected angry and furious. Not hurt.

It fucked her off. But it wasn't that explosive kind of anger. More of a resigned one. It helped her understand that maybe, just maybe, she needed to step away from him and this.

He was studying her face. A look that could only be described as tender, directed at her. And just like that, her resolution switched and changed into something less angry and more forgiving.

 _Seriously_. Feelings. _Ugh_.

'What happened?'

'Horace said we needed to do a quick sound check. Just a few hours-'

'Who's Horace?' she interrupted. Not at all bothered by the rudeness of it. Really, at this point, he'd take it or leave it. He had no other options.

'Our manager. Horace Slughorn. He's a dick but a brilliant businessman.'

'Right.'

He ran his hand through his hair, pushing back his fringe. 'Yeah. He said he'd let you know. That he'd tell Harry to tell you. You didn't have your phone so I couldn't reach you. I thought you knew where I was so I didn't think much of it. Sound checks can sometimes drag into something else and then the company who hired us requested a photo-op and that turned into something else. Then the record label had us go up north for another thing so by the time Harry caught up to us, I thought you'd known. Horace said you'd been told and I'd believed it.'

He was rambling and his words had been rushed. Really, only half of what he'd said had made sense. Clarification was needed so she asked question after question and after it was all said and done, she'd understood the situation and her feelings had done a complete turnaround.

'He lied...?' she asked, her tone caught between incredulous and insulted.

'Yeah,' Sirius nodded. 'He's a dick.'

'But...' she gestured at him. 'He lied.'

Another emphatic nod. 'Yeah, he's a _dick_.'

'Let me get this straight,' she said, eyes shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose. 'Horace didn't tell Harry anything, beyond ordering him to offer me money in an attempt to send me away. Meanwhile, he'd told you that I'd been notified and it wasn't until this morning, when Harry arrived in Inverness, that you'd found out that I didn't know.'

He nodded, hands in pockets. 'Yeah.'

'What an arse.'

'Yeah. Great manager though.'

She shook her head. 'Why aren't you angry with him? He _lied_ to you!'

The Marauder shrugged. 'He's done worse, believe it or not. And each time he's been caught, his answer is always the same: _It was for the band_. Eventually, we all just stopped caring. It's just one of those facts of life. The sky is blue, the earth is round and Horace Slughorn is a dick.'

'So he's done this before? Tried to hurt your relationships?'

Sirius shook his head. 'No. He never has. Which is why this came as a bit of a shock.'

'Oh really?' She mocked. _'Just_ a bit of a shock eh? Good thing it wasn't too important then!'

Elbows on knees, he stared her down from his seat on her bed. 'That's not what I meant and you know it.'

Hermione felt her shields come up. It _physically_ tingled up her spine, flambéing her cheeks, curling her hands and she stood up straighter.

Plausible reasoning aside, there was still more to this than a shitty manager and his shittier lies. So his sudden reaction wasn't welcome.

In fact, considering that he'd been calm this entire time, his seriousness was infuriating. _He_ was infuriating.

'Don't talk to me like that,' she said, same tone and everything.

'Don't talk to me like _that_.'

After several seconds of mutual staring, he looked away.

Head bowed, it hung between his shoulder blades and for one fleeting moment, he looked defeated and she felt guilty for reasons that she could not begin to understand. When he raised his head, that pain turned defensive.

He was furious. At her.

Bright, grey eyes told her so.

'What's wrong with you Hermione?'

A pang of something pulled at her chest. Her name on his lips, said that way had hurt. She didn't like it but she sure as hell wasn't going to tell him.

'Take a guess _Sirius_.'

'I told you what happened.'

'Yes and how was that supposed to help?'

The Marauder stood, eyes blazing. 'Stop acting like it didn't.'

It had. His excuse was solid and while she believed him, she had no valid proof. Just his word and, unfortunately, that wasn't enough.

He read her again then. With that same ease as before and she hated him a bit more for it.

'Here,' he said, handing her his mobile. 'Look at the messages, at the call log. It's all there Hermione. I swear I didn't know.'

He had thirty-five missed calls and sixty-seven texts. Also, she was his wallpaper.

Which was sweet and surprising but what caught her off-guard was that the image wasn't recent.

It wasn't even from their last few days. It was an image of her, looking out the window of a jet in a shimmery black dress. An angry, black tattoo, bright against her skin, curving the edges of her collarbone.

 _Sirius_.

Her parents had paid for its swift removal and by the time it was gone, she'd realised her ridiculous feelings for him.

At the time she'd felt foolish. Now, she didn't know what to feel.

This wasn't going to work. _Right?_ It wasn't meant to work. They made little sense and ... why didn't he fucking _see_ that?

It was best to cut the strings now, not to keep pulling together in a vague attempt to ... if he couldn't let this go, then she would.

His phone pinged then, vibrating in her hand. Bringing her back into the now.

With more conviction than she felt, she met his stare and spoke. 'I think you should go.'

She handed him back his cell and it dangled between them. Sirius looked away. He ran his hand through his fringe and took a step towards her, his warm hand surrounding hers as he took his phone back.

Grey eyes stared down at his mobile, before looking back at her. 'We don't really know each other. Do we?'

A heavily tattooed hand pushed back his fringe again, Hermione suspected it was a nervous gesture. She noticed it in his eyes. In the way they darted across the room and how he exhaled as his hand moved through his hair.

'At least on a personal level anyway. I mean,' he chuckled, but there was no humour behind it. 'Beyond what we've learned along the way.'

Her throat hurt and her eyes stung. She looked away. 'Yeah.'

'So- so we should fix that.'

Her stupid little heart did a weird thing again and she seriously wanted to kick her own arse over it.

Sirius fucking Black. He was forever doing her head in and she was forever letting him.

No more.

She would take control.

'Why do you keep doing this Sirius? What are you trying to prove?'

He licked his lips as he studied her face. Silence reigned and if this had been some cheesy chick flick, all that would be needed was the appropriate, tinkling backtrack.

It really was quite a dramatic moment.

The stuff of legends. Truly.

She was such a sarcastic arsehole.

'You scare the shit out of me.'

Yup. She understood that sentiment far too well. Been there, done that etc. etc. etc.

'And I just really need you to give us a chance okay?'

She didn't bother answering him because at the moment, it was physically fucking impossible.

His mobile rang again and he didn't so much as blink. The Marauder didn't so much as care. And the implication of it? Of him ignoring his responsibilities to be here with her. Of her image on his phone...

They were dancing around this- this... whatever the hell they were and he... she... what. The. _Fuck_?!

She moved towards him and pushed him. Shoved at him with all her strength and then some and he moved. Sirius grabbed at her, stopping the onslaught as he shouted over her.

She was tired of this bullshit. Done with all this mindfuckery _and_ was that even a word?

Didn't matter because even then, all of this wasn't enough.

Hermione slammed her lips against his. All her pent up frustrations rushed forward and she pulled him closer. Willing him to act and move as she pushed him backwards.

They stumbled and it took her a moment to realise they were on her bed.

He moved.

Grabbed her round her middle and then she was under him. Her legs around him as he ground into her.

He was everywhere and everything and she was lost.

The feel of him. The taste of him and this, now, still wasn't enough.

She needed more.

She pulled at his jacket and in a blink of an eye, that and his shirt were gone.

Hermione stuttered and moaned as his warm hand moved under her shirt to cup a breast. Calloused fingers teased her hardened nipple and she gasped at the feel of him moving between her thighs.

Heated lips whispered her name and the desperation behind it urged her on. She moved her hips, needing more of that delicious friction.

His hand moved and an embarrassing noise left her as she tried to get him back.

He chuckled, the bastard, and she was about to say _something_ when she caught his drift and then she had to fight the urge to hurry him up.

His hands moved down her sides, grabbed at her pyjama bottoms, pulling them down slowly. His eyes locked onto hers, daring or pleading with her, not to stop him.

If it'd been appropriate, the brunette would've scoffed.

Hermione had wanted him for so long that she wouldn't stop him for anything.

Once upon a time, she'd saved her virginity for love but since that fateful day, a year ago, she realised she'd just been waiting for him.

Well, not him, exactly. Just the embodiment _of_ him.

And there was no way in hell she was stopping this.

Self-consciousness could do one.

She'd felt him against her. He was hard. For her. Because of her and though it shouldn't have mattered, it did.

He was attracted to her. _Wanted_ her. So everything she'd ever thought or felt about her body could go fuck itsel-

''SIRIUS!'

She was going to fucking _kill_ Remus Lupin.

That pussy blocking piece of shit.

* * *

Work had called.

And after much swearing and complaining, he'd gone with a solid promise to come back the next day and he sure as hell had.

Her nerves had been shit all day and when he knocked on her door, she'd had to actively stop herself from jumping at the noise.

Lav's words the night before had rung in her head and while she wished they hadn't struck a nerve, they had.

 _He's going to hurt you._

He was.

She felt it in her bones.

And yet, missing their chance was somehow worse.

After their interruption, she didn't know what to make of this meeting. One thing was for sure, she'd asked Lav to piss off for the day and demanded that he come alone.

If things were going to happen between them, they needed to have an understanding first.

Unfortunately things didn't go according to plan where they were concerned.

Hermione gasped as she struggled to breathe.

Chest heaving, her eyes fluttered open as her trembling fingers ran through his hair and a satisfied laugh rang beneath her navel.

His lips traced the planes of her thighs. His skilled and fucking _awesome_ tongue dipped into her belly button before moving upwards. He teased her breasts and then he was there. His lips teasing hers as she tasted herself on his lips and if the heady scent of him and her together wasn't ambrosia then she didn't know what was.

And fucking hell he had successfully orgasmed her into a damn poet.

'Where was I?' he asked as she whimpered beneath him. His hardness settling over her throbbing pussy.

'You-you sure about this?' she asked him, painfully aware of his having had no release.

He'd said he hadn't cared. But that'd been five hours and three fan-fucking-tastic orgasms ago.

A teasing pull of his lips and he nodded. 'Positive.' A kiss on her neck and she shivered as his breath ghosted over her heated skin. 'We're not fucking 'til we've reached an understanding, I told you. Now stop trying to force me into having sex with you Hermione. I'm not ready yet. Respect my boundaries.'

She giggled. She couldn't help it.

She was just that stupid and giddy and too wound up from happy yay endorphins.

She closed her trembling legs as he moved off of her and pulled her into his arms.

Turns out, naked cuddles were the best. Who knew?

'You were talking about your uncle Alphard.'

'Right,' he said, clearing his throat. 'So he gave me the money yeah? But I didn't want it and when I refused he yelled at me. Went on and on about me being too fucking proud. I shouted back that I had shit to prove to me mum and dad but in the end, I gave in. As soon as I was able, I got a job. Worked at a pub for a bit and eventually, I paid him back, he didn't take it.' A rueful smile pulled at his lips and her heart beat a little bit faster. 'Said that if I wanted to pay him back, to get him on stage at Wembley stadium. Two years later, I got him up there. Guitar in hand, I watched my sixty year old uncle rocked out, shredding on his old Gibson.' He raised her hand, to kiss her fingers. 'Said it was one of the best moments of his life.'

'Where is he now?'

'Bermuda, last I checked. With his girlfriend, who is your age.'

'Wow.'

He laughed low and deep and the noise rumbled against her ear. 'What happened next?'

'Nope,' he said, moving out from under her. 'Your turn.'

'Fine,' Hermione grumbled as they got comfortable. 'So after I lied to my parents about signing up at their preferred university and after that first year, I told them I was moving in with Lav and the Patils. They were not happy.'

Which was putting it mildly. In reality, they'd been fucking _furious_ to the point that they'd marched up to London and demanded she move back home. It'd taken hours for her to convince them to let her stay and to this day, they still complained about it.

'I hadn't really cared and eventually, they let it go. A year into living together, Lav got herself a boyfriend. A scrum-half by the name of Ronald Weasley. I,' she sighed, 'I pretty much fell in love with him. He was really cool and sweet and he was funny. And no one knew I fancied him because I'd never told anyone. It was horrible hearing him and Lav going at it every damn night but yeah... One night, I got drunk and kissed him. He kissed me back and we nearly had sex. He pushed me away when sense kicked in and he and Lav broke up soon after. I don't think he ever told her because to this day, she's never mentioned it.'

Sirius pulled at a curl, watching it bounce back. 'Have you thought of telling her?'

Hermione thought about it a second before shaking her head. 'I'm too scared.'

The thought of her best friend knowing was too much for her.

'I can't do that. Not everyone has balls like you, you know.'

'I'm not that brave.'

An involuntary scoff left her and a crooked smile grazed his lips. 'I'm really not you know? If I was, I'd be able to tell my parents that I vote Labour.'

Her eyes widened. 'You have a death wish don't you?'

The Marauder shrugged, laughing. 'What can I say. I live dangerously.'

He frowned down at her. 'How about you? You Tory like your mum and dad?'

The brunette shook her head as much as her side position and the pillow allowed. 'No. I was a Lib Dem, but the loans … what makes you think they're Tories?'

He snorted.

She hummed at that because he wasn't wrong. Her eyes darted to the window and with a jolt realised that it'd begun to snow.

They'd had hours and hours together and it'd all felt like a handful of moments.

'Where are we?' he asked, shocking her. 'We've been talking for a few hours and I've been waiting for you to ask but you haven't so...'

 _Where were they?_

She knew more about him than ever. Knew intimate details and inside jokes between him and the band. She'd met Sirius the man, rather than the star.

And it made all the difference.

She rolled over him, straddling him. 'I think I'm more comfortable with this,' she said, hoping he understood the implication as she ground against him, watching as his eyes fell shut.

He laughed, grabbing her waist, stopping her moves. 'That's good. My dick's real happy to hear that.'

'He seems happy,' she murmured as a familiar glow began to grow.

'Muse,' he whispered, his eyes opening as his hand cupped a breast. 'You need to get off. I'm barely holding on here. Have some mercy.'

Their lips met and before she could speak, he did.

'I need to hear you say it.'

She licked her lips, looking down at him. At the skull tattoo spanning across his chest. At the colours and then her eyes drifted to her name on his neck.

'I want this,' she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her lips teasing his. 'I wanna give it a go. You and me.'

'No more doubting us?'

'No more doubt,' she promised before moving down the length of his body.

Brown eyes looked up at him, watching as the silver of his eyes darkened. 'Tell me what to do,' she said, kissing his bulge. 'And then we'll keep talking.'


	9. Homenum Revelio

Many thanks go to _TheUnrealInsomniac_ , who did excellent and speedy work when betaing this chapter. Well done Dave.

* * *

 **Pick**

Homenum Revelio

* * *

 _David Bowie - The Stars (Are Out Tonight)_

Recommended by Dave.

* * *

'Have you ever been constipated, but like... in your brain?' he asked her, stretching his neck and hand as he finally looked up from his notepad.

'I can't say I have, no,' a bemused Hermione said. 'Why...?'

'Because that's what writer's block feels like.'

'That sounds horrible,' she said with a yawn, as his metaphor took shape in her head.

'Yeah. But that's okay. I'm writing now, because of you.' Sirius turned to her, a soft smile on his lips. 'You're my laxative.'

Amused eyes studied her face.

'Double strength,' he added.

A sheepish grin curled the edges of her mouth. 'Sweet talker.'

'Chocolate flavoured.'

'You're so romantic,' she cooed.

The Marauder shook his head, a beautiful smile lighting up his tired face.

Her own eyes darted to her clock. It was morning. Looking at her darling Marauder, she could easily guess that he'd been at it for a few hours now, which meant that unlike her, he hadn't dozed. Hermione sat up, rubbing her eyes as she sat beside him.

With a peck on his cheek, she rested her head on his bare shoulder. 'So I've unclogged you?'

'And then some,' he said, lifting his notebook, a proud grin on his face. 'I wrote five songs. And they're not shite!'

'How do you know?'

'I don't know,' he answered honestly. 'I just do.'

'Fair enough,' she replied. Not at all up to questioning him about things she knew nothing about.

Like he'd told her the night before, as he'd looked through her playlists, her music tastes were shit.

As it turns out, that as a world renowned lyricist, he was kinda pretentious. Somewhat conceited.

According to him, it was all about the words and metaphors and the feelings they were meant to convey. Enhanced only by the tune behind them. He wanted purity of lyrics and originality before he found the backing track.

Apparently the everyday, I want you, I miss you type of lyrics were disgusting.

So that was another thing to add on to her Sirius Black book: Bloke was a lyric snob.

Eh. He could piss off. No matter what he said, the Backstreet Boys weren't that bad.

Hell, she could _easily_ think up a few of their songs that would fit their situation perfectly.

 _Definitely_ As Long As You Love Me.

Minus the love part.

Maybe like. Or lust? But definitely not love. Because yeah.

 _Right_!

Moving on.

'I have to go back to the office today. The show is in two days.'

Her tummy hurt at his words and a sinking feeling settled on her bones.

She'd known he would have to leave but Hermione couldn't help the sense of dread that built up inside of her because of it.

When left alone, they were good. When others came into play, something always went wrong. She'd known this bit of peace wouldn't last but she'd hoped that it would have been longer than a day.

Hermione wanted him with her.

With a deep breath and a quiet exhale, she took a step and stood out on the ledge.

'Can I come with you?'

He turned his head and a breath taking smile grazed his gorgeous lips.

* * *

When he'd said the office, he'd meant an arena.

When he'd said sound check, he'd meant a meet-and-greet in one of the boxes.

But when he'd proclaimed Horace Slughorn to be a dick, he'd not been lying.

The rotund man was an unmitigated _arsehole_. One she would have happily kicked in the bollocks.

The way the slimy man moved through the room, mingling and making introductions, was almost awe inspiring. In the course of a drink, she had seen him move from one end of the room to another, just to make an introduction. Hands were shaken, cards exchanged and when all interested parties left, Horace Slughorn looked very pleased with himself. A gleam in his eyes that spoke of greed and sinister deeds.

Then he noticed them and it'd all gone to shit.

He'd wobbled up to them, chins bouncing. Beady, little eyes twinkled- and within moments, she'd known she would never like him. When he spoke, it enhanced that belief.

'Padfoot, my boy!' Slughorn huffed and puffed as he neared them. A beefy arm going round Sirius' shoulders when he reached them- which incidentally, pushed her aside in the process.

Not that it pissed her off or anything, but one tended to notice a fat bastard invading your personal space. And _that_ she had a problem with.

'You're back! Come! Marietta is somewhere around here and you need to see what that bloody woman has done.'

Sirius allowed the idiot man to walk him a step away before stopping the rude bastard.

'Horace,' Sirius said, eyes less than friendly and tone brooking no argument. 'This is Hermione.'

Tattooed fingers reached for her and she happily took his hand. Dark eyes on the blue of the Bastard's.

Although sweet, and she loved the sharp tone to Sirius' voice, it'd been a pointless endeavour. The Bastard had known who she was. It'd been obvious in his stare. In his dismissive and rude behaviour, in the way he was looking at her now. Like she was something foul he'd stepped on.

The Bastard was clearly unhappy.

And she was here for all of it.

Hermione leant her head against Sirius' shoulder and swung their joined hands in the process. A bit difficult on account of there being no room between them but she sure as hell did it anyway.

Sweet smile in place and a tilt of her head, cherubs looked like demonic little shits compared to her. 'Hello Horace. Nice to meet you.'

She could practically _feel_ his disgust and it tasted like sweet, cherry wine.

'Hello Ms Granger,' he said reluctantly. _Very_ reluctantly, as if each word was a curse. 'I was not aware you would be joining us today.'

Hermione blinked and in the course of a second, Bastard's frowning lips and glowering face switched as he turned to the Marauder on her arm. Smiling lips revealed bright, _bright_ teeth and friendly eyes. 'Padfoot, what's say we send Ms Granger home until the event clears?'

He moved closer to them and she had to fight back the impulse to push him away. Also, he smelt good which pissed her off. Men like him should smell like what they were inside- a steaming pile of shit.

She had to bite down on her tongue to stop her from cussing the man out when she heard his words.

'Pansy, Millicent, and Daphne are here,' he "whispered" with a pointed look that she didn't like and which made her try to pull away from Sirius' hand. Warm fingers held firm though, which actually helped relieve the jealousy.

Because he was here with her. And though they'd been here a while, he'd not looked at any other women. Just at her.

'Horace,' he said, voice low and not at all amused. Grey eyes dark as he stared down the shorter man.

The thousand watt smile dimmed for half a second, replaced by a forced imitation that must have hurt. 'Ms Granger, enjoy yourself. Eat and drink.'

Slughorn made a sweeping motion with his hand before he left and she let out a breath she'd unknowingly held. Armani suit, fake tan, fake smile, too much teeth whitening and just the right amount of expensive cologne couldn't hide the fact that Horace Slughorn was a massive prick. If anything, it enhanced it.

'He's a dick,' she uttered under her breath, just loud enough for Sirius to hear.

He huffed a laugh, nodding. 'Told you.'

And he'd not been lying.

She squeezed his hand, brown eyes looking up at him as he turned his head, meeting her eyes. 'I'm sorry I tried to pull away.'

The corner of his lip curled, as his free hand pushed away his fringe. 'It's okay.'

Except it wasn't because his nervous ticks were showing. He looked away, eyes studying the full room, left hand pulling back his hair... and his smile. It was void of all humour.

The brunette licked her lips and felt guilt sour her stomach.

Clearly, she wasn't the only one invested in this. She'd known that of course but it was hard to deny the fact when the evidence was smacking her right in the face.

She wanted to explain.

To make him understand how hard this was for her. She'd never had this. She'd never felt this way. Her sole experience with men amounted to nothing more than nameless, and quite honestly, forgettable snogs with mild pawing.

Then, him.

And Jesus-fucking-Christ, suddenly she was _wanted_. Acknowledged as a sexual being. As a _woman_. When he looked at her with that intense look in his eyes, she felt gorgeous and powerful. Like she could either make or break him...

But then all she had to do was look at the room around her and she remembered who he was. About what he'd seen and of how he'd lived. Whereas all she'd ever done was survive.

What could she ever offer him that he'd not experienced already?

Bloke was a Greek god. Whereas she was one of many peasants allowed to pay him tribute.

 _He's going to break your heart._

He was. He really was.

There was some comfort in that Lav wouldn't enjoy being right. She was a good friend like that.

'Stop it,' ordered the Marauder, frowning down at her.

'Huh?' she said, feigning ignorance because it was always easier than to admit any insecurities. Plus, she'd promised to stop thinking like that.

Clearly, that was easier said than done.

'They didn't mean anything. They were just...' He shrugged. 'They're groupies Hermione. Only good for one thing.'

…

 _Yeah, no._

Fuck no.

She felt herself begin to scowl. Hard. Because there was no way _in_ _hell_ , that he was about to condemn those women for something which he himself enjoyed in equal measure.

Double standards her arse.

If he was free to shag groupies without judgment, then the groupies could screw all the bands without being made out to be less.

This wasn't the damn eighteen-hundreds and he sure as hell wasn't a paragon of virtue himself.

'And you're the bastard who took advantage of his fame and _their_ bodies to satisfy a desire.' She arched an eyebrow as his mouth fell open. 'Don't be the arsehole who calls women whores just for enjoying sex. Not when you've made your rounds across the globe.'

Hermione took advantage of his slackened grip and let go of his hand. She tilted her head. 'How many women have you slept with Sirius?'

He didn't answer her, not that she'd expected him to. The wide eyes and oh-shit look he was giving her was definitely welcomed though.

'Next time you try and judge groupies, kindly remember that you're a sexist piece of shit.'

'Okay, no. Wait a min-'

She didn't have to wait a minute though. Not since a sultry voice called out his name.

They turned and her throat got very, very dry.

She'd seen beautiful women before. Had in fact been best friends with one for the entirety of her university career. Was a flatmate to twins who could make men dizzy with fetishized, demented fantasies but these ladies ... _Damn._ For just a moment, she'd doubted her own sexuality.

They were all legs, breasts, full lips and sinful smiles. Small waists and proportional arses that definitely didn't make her all the more aware of her own flat chest, big arse and homely looks.

But the mini-dresses didn't make her feel insecure. Nope.

Not at all.

She was absolutely _fine_ standing next to three beautiful women dressed in expensive clothing, flawless make-up and heels that made her see green because she knew she couldn't pull any of it off.

Really, they were overrated. Jeans and t-shirts were fine. Converse were technically expensive too so it was all good.

It was.

It was.

Okay. No. That was a lie.

It wasn't okay because they all had beautiful hair too and she fucking hated them for it. Everything else she could deal with but soft/silky/shinny, _manageable_ hair on top of their stunning faces was a bit too much.

One had short, chin, black length hair. Another had long, red, flowing locks. The last had a flirty little bob that made her blonde highlights pop.

'Sirius,' said the one on the left, Black Bob. Dark, slanted eyes just as beautiful and captivating as the hair. God, she hated her. 'We just got here, how are you?'

She moved in for a hug. It was very obvious to everyone that she had- as was the hand that Sirius stuck out between them.

'Pansy,' he said, smiling. 'Nice to see you. How's everything?'

The chick froze, confused eyes moving between his hand, to him, to her friends and finally to her.

'I'm... good, yeah...'

Black eyes were watching her and she tried her hardest not to squirm under the Asian woman's stare.

'I'm sorry,' said Black Bob, confusion edging her words. 'But do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.'

Hermione shook her head, very aware of the fact that she'd not bothered to comb her hair. Sirius had said he loved it uncombed so she'd left it. Now she wished she hadn't. Especially since Black Bob was studying it with critical eyes.

'N-no,' Hermione stammered. 'I don't think s-'

Sirius cut her off before she could finish however.

Hand up, he was pointing something at them. His mobile.

He was showing them his picture of her.

'That's her. She's Hermione.'

And just like that, reactions flipped. Quite honestly, the severity and speed with which their attitudes changed was fascinating. One second, they'd been all smiles and half a nanosecond later, their features had turned into varying degrees of human emotion.

Physics man. _Seriously_.

Black Bob was smiling but it was a calculating one. Dark eyes studied her. From top to bottom, not a single inch of her was overlooked. Honestly? It was borderline predatory. Not in the sense that the chick wanted her- or in that she wanted Sirius. More like... this chick was a Boss Bitch and she knew it.

She was in control of the situation and did not feel anything other than amusement. As if to verify this assessment, the woman arched an eyebrow, lips curling all the more.

Red... she was the shortest of the lot but still several inches taller than her. Chick was pretty, Hermione could admit. Even as Red looked like she wanted to snatch up Sirius and pee on him. Hermione would've laughed if she hadn't felt so damn awkward- she dismissed the ginger rather quickly.

Highlights on the other hand... the girl had a misty-eyed look on her face as blue eyes darted from her to Sirius. A sincere smile on her face.

For some reason, she liked this one best.

'Hermione?!' Highlights said, bouncing where she stood, hands to her chest. 'Oh my God Sirius! You went after her!'

The glee, the bloody joy and tearful smile... it all hinted at one thing. He'd talked about her. To his groupie.

Brown eyes turned towards the Marauder, who in turn looked sheepish. Which was appropriate because if he'd talked about her to his fuck buddies then it was awkward enough. But if he'd done so, as he lay in bed wiTH THEM, then she was going to disembowel him with a rusty spoon.

By the looks of him, she would need to throw a few eating utensils into the salt water tank across the room.

Hermione reached out to the blonde, still eyeing Sirius. Piercing him with a look that let him know he was an arse.

Highlights shook her hand, a firm, solid handshake, as she spoke. 'Pleasure to meet you...?'

'Oh!' said the smiling blonde. 'I'm Daphne and this is Millie.' She pointed to Red before moving to Black Bob/Boss Bitch. 'And that's Pansy. We're friends of the band.'

'Right,' said Red. 'Sirius and us, we go way back.' Light brown eyes moved to said Marauder. 'Isn't that right Padfoot?'

 _Oh dear lord._

The amount of tea that bitch could've sweetened with her tone... She'd practically simpered. Judging by the looks of her, Black Bob was not amused. If anything, she looked like she wanted to deck Red.

Daphne glared at the ginger, lips pursed and a look to her face that said, _oh no you didn't._

Before anything else could be said, a different redhead barrelled into the three women. Red was practically pushed into Black Bob/Boss Bitch which did not at all cause her to smile.

'Sirius,' Lily spat, green eyes blazing 'Where the hell is James?!'

* * *

Socialising was a hard thing to accomplish when you generally liked being alone.

She was awkward. Didn't know how to talk to people and didn't enjoy being the centre of attention. She was also painfully self-aware.

Hermione knew who she was: An introvert with self-esteem issues, who preferred small gatherings as opposed to large parties.

Her university experience had made her more open to socialising and to accepting herself. Overall, she knew she had improved but damn it all to hell if the stares and side looks weren't making her self-consciousness worse.

Everyone was looking. Not outright and not at first but as the room began to fill up with people, the more curious looks were aimed her way the more obvious they became.

It was fine.

Except it wasn't. Her back itched and burned from the amount of covert attention she knew she was getting.

Or maybe she was just paranoid and it was all in her mind.

Besides, there were a few famous people here too.

There was an Academy award winning actress on the arm of her Grammy award winning lover. Their relationship had been speculated about for some time and she could now verify it. They were cute together and she wished the ladies luck.

Also an old rocker... a pop princess and her boyband beau. An heiress and another actress on the arm of some other actor. It was quite swish all things considered. Nothing casual about this company event and she was a tiny nobody in a deep sea of somebodies.

It was stupid to be this paranoid. She knew it was. But honestly, Hermione couldn't help feeling that even with all these damn celebs knocking round and with her propped against the wall, that _she_ was being watched.

'He's gay ya kno'.'

Wide eyes turned to the Marauder beside her as her mouth fell open in shock. He nodded to the American actor who'd starred in a few of her sexual fantasies as a teenager.

'No,' she said, whispering as she eyed the actor straight ahead.

'Aye,' the Scotsman said with a quiet laugh. 'He might pretend otherwise but believe me lass, the man likes cock.'

The brunette frowned as a wave of guilt chastised her. She should've known better than to listen to gossip. Especially since she had first-hand experience with it.

Honestly. Had Dolores Umbitch taught her nothing?

'You shouldn't say that,' she told Remus as humour pulled at his features.

'Oh? And why not love?'

'Because... you don't know that for sure.'

The heavily tattooed bloke laughed outright and she eyed his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.

He had a full moon tattoo with a wolf howling at it. A rat, a stag and a dog beneath it. She'd seen it of course- online and in archived photos but up front and live... the amount of intricate details were astonishing.

He was Moony. All the Marauder's had stupid nicknames and though it was a well-known subject, no one had ever gotten an answer out of the four as to why they'd nicknamed themselves.

Sirius was Padfoot, had a tattoo of a black dog against a moon as well and she wondered what it meant. Suddenly reminding herself to ask Sirius about his own tattoos. Especially about the crest on his left rib and of the two French words beneath it. For some reason, Sirius was the only one of them that didn't talk about his ink to the media... She kinda liked that.

'Normally, I would agree wit' ya love... but no straight man would look at another man's cock when takin' a piss. Don't get me wrong lass, sometimes ye look accidental like, but ya never stare. 'E stared and he made damn sure I noticed.'

Well shit.

Still though. 'Maybe he's bi.'

Moony conceded to that and opened his mouth to say something but then _her_ damn mouth opened and her verbal diarrhoea made its appearance.

'Why do they call you Moony?'

She felt herself blush and she fucking wished the floor would open itself up and swallow her whole.

He didn't answer her and she immediately apologised.

'I-I'm sorry!'

He waved her off and smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 'It's fine.'

Which it clearly hadn't been because he'd left soon after.

Again, socialising was not for people who sucked at the talking thing.

She'd gone too personal when she'd barely met the bloke and though she'd have liked to blame the drink- all she'd had so far were a few glasses of wine that at most, had made her happy.

And paranoid.

Not to mention nervous and had erased her damn filter.

She put her glass down and moved around the crowd, towards the table which held water bottles.

* * *

Three hours they'd been here and Hermione now understood the appeal in people watching.

Particularly, celebrities and these famous types.

There was a certain layer or pride and humility in their demeanour. It screamed of "oh hey look at me" with an "I'm just like you undertone". Which was ridiculous of course. Hermione couldn't imagine a regular chick wearing a mesh, see-through shirt in public and not be labelled trashy.

Good for the model/reality TV star chick but Hermione couldn't help the sliver of annoyance at the fact.

Lav had once worn a similar thing to a Halloween do and some drunk, jealous bitches had called her a dirty whore.

On top of that, age wasn't an issue in the realm of the rich and famous. A teen pop princess was straddling a rocker in his mid-twenties and people didn't bat an eyelash as they moved past them.

Anywhere else and it'd be cause for outrage but here? Nah.

She now understood what he'd meant by being tired of this lifestyle. If that sort of thing was commonplace ... she didn't blame him.

Her gaze flit to Sirius who caught her eye.

Silver eyes moved towards the sitting/inappropriate pair and he shook his head at them before giving her a disgusted look. She smiled at him and the frown disappeared as he turned back to the guy he'd been speaking to.

Leaving her to her people watching, and as interesting as the whole thing had been, she was now past bored. She wanted to go home.

She'd sat on the expensive leather couch and had talked with Lily for some time. Apparently, she'd been looking for James to throttle the selfish bastard, her words, as he'd convinced some girl to tattoo the band's logo on her face. Marie-something. Chick had gone through with it on the promise that she'd become his PA and now when it was all said and done, he'd laughed it off. Told the Marie-something that he wasn't going to fire Lily and that he'd pay for the removal.

The redhead had been pissed off. Fuming and irritable, she'd called James Potter some very interesting and clever names. A few which she would now use in fact.

That'd been half an hour ago though.

Horace, who loved Lily apparently, had called her over and with a parting word went in search of the lead singer.

And so she'd people watched and now was tired. Not surprising really. She'd gone from emotional to orgasmic to dozing to attending a celebrity filled 'sound check'.

She'd had a big day.

'Ms. Granger.'

The brunette turned at the sound of her voice and smiled at Dude. He tipped his chin in greeting and gestured towards the door.

'They're about to begin. Mr Black asked me to escort you to your seat.'

Dark eyes darted to the Marauder, who turned in her direction. He nodded at her, a soft smile on his face and she stood, following after Dude.

With a swing of a door, the noise grew muffled behind them. Dude's expensive looking shoes tapped on the floor as her own squeaked behind. He led her into another box, this one closer to the stage but no less fancy.

'The other ladies will join you soon,' he said and she started.

'What ladies?' she asked. Imagining a hoard of groupies glaring at her. Or in case of Black Bob, sizing her up.

'Ms Lovegood and Ms Evans.'

She nodded, giving him a tight lipped smile as he closed the door behind him.

Hermione turned towards the seats. Across from her, she could see the party slowing down as people left the room.

She was anxious. Nervous and excited. This time tomorrow, the stadium would be packed with screaming fans. All waiting to hear her boyfriend's band in what was dubbed a comeback.

Fucking corporations.

This was supposed to be a company thing. Then it turned into a retirement thing. When word got out that the band would play, whatever company had hired them saw an opportunity and while it was still a retirement/corporate thing, it was labelled a charity event. Underprivileged and at-risk teens where piled up from somewhere and while _that_ was nice, she was sure the pay-out for this companies' public image was greater.

She really did hate bureaucrats.

However, circumstances being what they were, if she stayed around long enough she could bring down the establishment from the inside.

Hermione was sure Sirius wouldn't mind.

The brunette watched as Remus walked into the stage and, just as quickly, large TV's across the room came on.

Sirius walked in then and her heart hammered in her chest as she saw him reach for his favourite guitar. An electric blue thing that she'd seen him make sing.

Pete walked in next and she spared him an appreciative glance before staring at her man.

He really was beautiful.

And she was going to hear him play live.

She knew his songs by heart now. Had favourites and some she just liked. A few she didn't.

A year ago today, she'd chastised herself for marrying him. She'd remained curious and interested in him though. Of course she had. She'd married the bloke on a drunken binge and had then proceeded to divorce him a few hours later after having made small talk on a jet over the Atlantic.

So she'd searched online. Saw videos and read interviews. Listened to his music- his words and that was it. She'd known too late what her drunk self had discovered in a matter of hours.

And now she had him as much as he had her and she would see him play.

She hoped he did it with the same passion he showed in his live concert footage.

 _H-Hermione._

The brunette flushed hot and felt her pussy ache as she licked her lips.

She'd made him beg and shudder with just her mouth a-

A slight noise caught her attention and Hermione frowned. Turning towards the sound she heard it again coming from the room in the far corner. She moved towards it, heart racing and before she could think twice pulled the door open.

Aaaand regretted it the second she did.

James Potter was grunting. Bare arsed, his pants and slacks were by his ankles as he thrust into a completely naked Lily Evans.

A look of pained pleasure covered the redhead's face as she bit her lip. Head thrown back, she leant against a table supporting her weight on her elbows. James lowered his mouth to suck on a pale nipple and bright green eyes met her own.

A gasp, a shout and a swear word and Hermione slammed the door shut.

Completely red, she didn't know what to do. Fleeing was preferable but yeah... she had nowhere to go. So she moved towards the cushioned seats and waited.

Quietly.

She did not look as James Potter walked out. Didn't even turn to the redhead when she sat a next to her.

They didn't talk and the silence got louder.

When Lily cleared her throat, Hermione turned and watched the ginger blush. A sheepish look to her face. She still hadn't met her eye though.

'It's complicated,' she said and Hermione nodded, understanding far too well.

Sirius spoke into his mic then and her tummy squirmed.

'James,' he shouted. 'Get your arse down here!'

The door opened and she and Lily turned in time as Luna walked in. She sat down next to Lily and the three watched and waited as James took centre stage and Remus counted them in.


	10. Finite Incantatem

As per usual, Dave betaed and I appreciate him for it.

* * *

 **Pick**

Finite Incantatem

* * *

 _Bon Jovi - You Give Love A Bad Name_

* * *

Sirius Black was so fucking hot, he made her knickers wet.

Like, she'd known he was hot but she'd never really thought about it- she'd known but she hadn't _really_ Known.

It was the difference between being hot and _Fucking Hot_. And that's what Sirius was when he was on stage.

The way his fingers moved. The shapes his lips formed when he sang back-up. The way he held the guitar in his hands...

It was sensual and sexual and all sex-themed words combined.

The fact was undeniable: Sirius Black was Fucking HotTM.

And he was hers.

He was much more than a rock star, but she couldn't deny that she enjoyed this part of him. Online videos were shite compared to the real thing. Sirius performing live was something else entirely and she had a feeling he knew because every so often, he would look up at their box and smile. It made him look sexy and naughty and hence the wetness.

... She may have been a tad horny.

That, however, had been irrelevant. Because the bass and drums mixed over her. Beating against her chest, in contrast to her pounding heart. James' voice echoed in her head as Sirius' lyrics forced her to dance and sing. His solos... they were unexplainable.

Music was moving. It brought you to life and to the edge of sorrow and she finally got it. She saw his passion first-hand and felt it loud and clear. A part of her had been jealous. But then he'd look in her direction and, though it may have been a ridiculous fancy on her part, she had a feeling that he was playing only for her.

By the time they were done, a fierce pride burned through her. Bellied only by her need for him.

To her left, Lily stood and made her way towards a minibar. The redhead reached for a bottled water as Luna sat, watching the stage where only Peter Pettigrew and Sirius remained.

Hermione shifted in her seat, anxious to have Sirius near. She just wanted to leave now. She'd seen him on stage, now she wanted to see him between her thighs.

Or on his back. As he tugged on her hair. Moaning her name like a prayer.

Hermione sighed. Slowly and deeply as the ache in her tummy intensified. Dark eyes following his path as he moved away from centre stage, towards the back. The second he was out of sight, the door opened and in walked James Potter.

The front singer walked to the waiting redhead, water in hand. He opened the bottled water and drank deeply from it, eyes trained on Lily who in turn, watched him back.

Eye fucking was definitely a thing.

And in that moment, she realized two things: Lily Evans didn't really hate James Potter. And two, the bastard didn't deserve her.

It was in the way she smiled at him, no matter how small and shy it was. It was in his cocky grin- a look that said, _of course_ she fancied him.

Frankly, it both irritated and intrigued her. So while she faced away from the pair, she kept giving them side-eyes. Her nosy arse focused on the way they quietly spoke and in their stances- of which, coincidentally, Lily's hinted at an openness that James Potter didn't. Hermione didn't want to judge, but she seriously couldn't see them working out in the long run.

She could barely see them working now. The way she'd witnessed them fight and then fuck- the whole thing screamed of an unhealthy relationship.

Whatever. It wasn't any of her business and she didn't really care.

Still, as it is with all horrific scenes, she couldn't look away.

She was such a judgemental piece of shit. Really, there was no difference between her and Umbitch.

Luna moved then and Hermione turned to the now walking blonde, as she made her way towards the pair. Or the refreshments table next to them, as it were.

A pale hand with red painted nails reached for an energy drink and bottled water. Long blonde hair swinging as she turned towards the door expectantly and as if summoned, in stormed Sirius and Peter Pettigrew. The pair walked to her and each took their drink: Sirius the water and Peter the unhealthy green one.

She didn't stand to greet him, nor did she call out to him. Really, all she could do was stare. The way his face was flushed, the brightness in his eyes, the sheer joy he radiated- he was so goddamn beautiful it hurt.

Hermione sighed as his eyes traced over her, as a soft smile grazed his lips. He may have been talking to Peter and Luna, in a room full of people, but in those few seconds it'd just been him and her.

A few more words were spoken and after a clear dismissal, Sirius walked over to her.

'How'd you like the show?'

'It was beautiful,' she admitted. 'I loved watching you play.'

His smile at that- _damn_.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah,' she breathed out, laughing. 'You got skills my dude... maybe you should look into playing for a living.'

The Marauder grinned, his smiles all teeth as the twinkle in his eyes changed into something more mischievous.

'Really? You think I got what it takes?'

She nodded, taking his water from him and having a sip. 'Absolutely. You're loads better than the guy across the street. And he has a few thousand followers online.'

'Wow.'

'I know.'

'You really think I'm as good as him?'

'Absolutely,' she gestured with an airy hand. 'As a person with mediocre knowledge on all things rock music, I can definitely say, with eighty-three percent accuracy, that you are just as good a guitar player as the guy across the street.'

'Eighty-three percent...' he nodded slowly. 'Good round number that. Ta.'

'You are quite welcome,' she grinned. 'Though I do recommend further practice to raise that number up.'

'Maybe later,' he laughed, an arm moving round her and pulling her in. His voice dropping to a quiet murmur as he did. 'Right now I'd rather focus on you.'

And holy fuck did he.

He was hard.

And coincidentally, she was wet.

Something DEFINITELY needed to be done about that.

But at the moment it didn't matter because he started kissing her again.

His lips moulded to hers perfectly, his tongue soft and sweet. And when she pulled him closer, teasing his tongue with her own, he sighed.

It was a slow caress. A gentle push and pull that made her toes curl and her knickers drip.

His hands were soft, strong and sure as the moved from her waist to her neck. His thumbs over her pulse, making it race.

Then there was clapping.

And someone wolf-whistled.

Which was fair enough and completely justified because fuck could that boy kiss.

Still, though.

 _Awkward_. A. F.

Sirius chuckled and with one last kiss, he pulled her into his neck, hiding her from view.

She couldn't see properly. His hair was in the way, but she saw just enough to see Lily, Luna and the other three Marauders watching them.

James Potter was smirking, clapping slowly. Remus Lupin whistled again as Peter Pettigrew shouted at them to get a room. Besides James, Lily demanded an encore and Luna just flipped through her phone.

* * *

She'd always assumed that big name celebrities rode in limousines, at fairly regular occasions.

Turns out, she was wrong.

They rode big, black cars with tinted windows.

Which made sense and all and fair play to them, but it shattered many of her childhood fantasies.

The fact had been a bit, _aww_ but also, _duh_ because oF COURSE they wouldn't be in limos all the damn time.

A part of her childhood had died then.

On the other hand, Sirius was a walking, talking rock star cliché.

He had a gorgeous home.

A renovated thing, in a very posh district, which screamed of old money and the aristocracy.

He had expensive furnishings and antiques scattered throughout.

And he didn't give a single, flying fuck about any of it.

His dining table looked antique and on it, people had scratched their names. Many of whom were notable names, all of which pissed her off.

Stains littered an old rug and a fancy, Chinese vase had been put back together with scotch tape. Someone had Sharpied an arrow pointing to the crack. The words, _oops_ and _my bad_ graffitied on it.

It'd pissed her off.

The total lack of respect for these beautiful things, which had been around longer than these famous ingrates... no class. No couth. No God damned manners.

Fuck them all. And fuck Sirius for allowing any of it.

Each room was decorated with ruined antiques. She'd held her tongue though. Simmering and boiling, she kept her silence. Determined to not be that rude bitch that judged people in their own home.

But then he'd guided her to his bedroom and it'd all stopped being important.

His bed was soft.

His touches tender.

He'd tried to stop, but she'd refused. Pleaded with her lips and hands. Touching him, urging him to give in. Willing him to give in and give her what they both wanted.

It didn't hurt as much as she'd expected.

Just a sharp pain, a sense of fullness and even then, that faded quickly.

It'd... she liked sex.

It was glorious.

The push and pull of him moving inside of her, his moans and hungry lips... the pulsing burn that he'd carefully nurtured... lighting her up from the inside out until all she could do was gasp and feel. She'd been drowning, lost in her body's urgency and need, far too focused on the way he moved that nothing else mattered.

He sought her lips, tasting her moans as he pushed her to that glowing edge over and over again.

Tender. Patient. Intimate. Glorious.

It'd definitely been worth the wait.

She fell asleep with his arms around her. His lips trailing a lazy path across her shoulder.

* * *

Her vag was sore but that was okay.

Sirius had kissed it better and then it'd _really_ been okay.

Also, her thighs were sore. They hadn't been used to being spread like that, nor had they ever been used to ride anyone so yeah... she was sore in places that she would not have expected. Sex was fun.

No. Scratch that.

Sex with _Sirius_ was fun.

She had no frame of reference, other than him, but she knew it to be true nonetheless.

In one night they'd had sex three times.

First he'd been gentle. Then he'd been a teacher. Then he'd made her laugh as he rocked into her- which had been weird but also nice. Comfortable. Because why _shouldn't_ you laugh during sex with your partner?

There had been no discomfort on awkwardness. Quite honestly, it had all felt completely natural and there had been no regret on her part.

Out of the many things she regretted, sleeping with him- losing her virginity, to him, would never be one of them.

After a few short and blissful hours, they'd left his flat and headed back towards the stadium.

It was concert night.

The first time in years that the Marauders would play.

The hours sped by. No sooner had they reached the stadium, that he'd been whisked away for last minute preparations. He came back every so often, he'd kiss her and hold her and they'd talk for a bit but he was always called away.

He'd gotten her phone back too. Apparently, the big bloke who'd picked up his bike had also picked up her phone. Her parents had been adamant that she call them. She'd been fiddling with it, but still hadn't turned it on.

Yes she was putting their whole argument off but she didn't care. She was determined to not ruin this day.

Sirius didn't say as much, but he was nervous. Anxious. Fidgety and on edge.

She gave him head to make him feel better.

Coincidentally, quickies were fun.

The chance of them getting caught had been a rush and nEVEr in a million years would she have suspected that she had exhibitionist tendencies but there you are. It was a bit scary because Omg NO! Bad!Hermione. But also, ohmygod... n O... Bad... Hermione.

Punctuation was key.

Regardless of the fact, it was safe to say that sex had brought out parts of her that she'd never suspected she had.

'Mr Black?' called Dude as he rapped on the door, disturbing her thoughts. 'It's time.'

Hermione eyed the clock, and so it was.

The Marauder turned to her and she nearly swooned at the sight of him.

Clad in jeans and boots, shirtless, long hair framing his stubbly face, tattoos out in full force, concentration smouldering his features... her tongue rolling out of her mouth was not out of the question.

 _Was there time for another quickie?_

'Oi', he said. Grey eyes glinting as the corner of his mouth lifted. 'Stop objectifying me.'

Hermione smiled.

'I wouldn't dare,' she said as innocently as she could. Her vision zeroing on his crotch. 'You are important and special to me.'

'My dick appreciates the sentiment.'

'As he should.'

Sirius ran his hands through his hair. Seeing through her as his focus shifted. She knew what it was and why he was doing it but still, it was confusing.

It didn't make sense to her, but she saw the truth of it in his eyes- he had stage fright.

She should've left it alone, feelings not being her thing and all. Normally, she would have too, but as his girlfriend, she had certain rights. Or so movies and sitcoms said.

The brunette didn't know how to phrase her question though. _Are you scared?_ sounded so... cold. And confrontational. Almost mocking.

 _Don't be scared_ was stupid as all shit and she automatically dismissed it.

She sure as hell wouldn't have been able to go up there and play an instrument as lyrics baring his soul, blared out of loudspeakers. Hell, she was scared of answering her mobile when people _called_ her.

But she needed to say something though. In the end, she went with as little said as possible. He knew her. He would know what she meant.

'After all this time?

'Always.'

He reached out to her and when her hand closed around his, he pulled her up. His arms circling around her.

'It'll pass the minute I'm up there but the few leading up to them are nerve wracking.'

She didn't know what to say to that so she kissed him instead.

* * *

There'd been a press thing before the actual concert.

It'd...

They'd...

It'd been fine before that but then...

 _Rita Skeeter-Lockhart._

That bitch had spotted her and suddenly, hundreds of cameras had shifted to her and Sirius had laughed while the other Marauders smiled at their mate's obvious joy.

They'd shouted her name.

Taken her picture.

And she remembered the headlines. The paparazzi and her mum's endless commentary.

She'd panicked and she went back to his dressing room and then he was there, trying to calm her as his words echoed in and out of her head but not really managing to make sense.

He'd come in smiling but after several minutes, he'd grown worried.

'Hermione? You alright?'

She was. Of course she was.

Her hair was a mess and she had marks on her neck and her arse was big and she had no breasts and she dressed shitty but she. Was. _Fine._

Rita had been the most vicious out of all her critics. Hermione had suspected that there may have been a thing between the fake blonde and Sirius at one point but she hadn't managed to ask him yet on account of her having forgotten about that bitch of a reporter/blogger.

Hermione laughed and she inwardly cringed at the manic tone to it.

He'd said comforting things. Words. But they hadn't been important.

They still weren't. It was, the after.

'C'mon babe,' he'd said. All smiles, hand stretched out like he'd done before, waiting to pull her in. 'Let's have our picture taken yeah?'

She should've explained.

He should've read her better.

Things would have worked out differently then.

Instead, she froze and he misread.

Sirius frowned when she didn't reach out. His hand lingered in the empty space between them and all she could do was stare at it. Panic overwhelming her self-preservation, demanding that she run the hell away.

Away from the cameras. Back to Godric's Hollow. Back home and away from the shit storm that was sure to follow.

It had before after all, it would again.

Except, this time it would be worse.

She was his first ex-wife. There'd been several after her.

SIRIUS BLACK REUNITES WITH FIRST WIFE.

DESPERATE GRANGER WAITED FOR SIRIUS BLACK TO RETURN.

 _Worse._

She could still hear the reporters shouting for them. For _her._

Rita's shrill voice still managed to cut above them all.

 _'Hermione! How does it feel knowing you were easily replaced? Did you beg him back? Do you have no shame?!'_

She'd shaken her head then, agreeing that clearly she didn't.

Sirius, hadn't heard the bitch though. He'd assumed something else entirely. Misinterpreted.

'What's wrong love?' he asked, smiling that smile didn't reach his eyes. 'Not embarrassed of taking a picture with me are you?'

She didn't answer. Her tongue had frozen to the roof of her mouth. Body, paralyzed. Mind reeling with headlines that she knew her mum would quote for the rest of her life as her dad remarked on how this would affect their business.

'Hermione?'

She'd just... frozen.

Sirius reached out for her and she. Fucking. _Flinched._

The Marauder reeled back as if struck. Burned. The look in his eyes as he did- _Jesus fuck_ she would never be able to get over the pain they conveyed.

And she'd put it there.

'So...' he looked around his dressing room. Looking at everything but her. Running his hands through his hair, shifting on his feet. 'You'll...'

He reached for the nearest thing, a plain white t-shirt and held it. His white knuckled fist, wrinkling the undoubtedly expensive fabric.

'Let me get this straight,' he murmured. Tone cold. Harsh. Pained. 'You'll... let me inside you... but you won't be seen with me?'

Her mind screamed. It fought and argued with his every word. But still, she couldn't move.

Rita was still shouting questions at her. The reporters were down the hall and she could still hear them. They were that loud.

Hermione blinked, willing him to understand. Even as she said nothing. Because he could do that. He was able to read her like no one else ever had.

Sirius turned and reached out with an angry hand, throwing various grooming products to the floor. His reflection an ugly thing.

Dark eyes moved over her. Chest heaving, he turned to look at her.

Not at her reflected image, but at her. _Through_ her. Like she was nothing. Like he didn't know her.

'I'm tired of this shit Hermione. You say you've made up your mind but you haven't yet, have you? You say you'll give us a chance but you still can't commit. I chase after you and... for fuck's sake I've begged you to give us a chance! And still you...'

The Marauder kicked over a bin, its contents rattling, rolling and scattering to the floor. A used condom, full of his semen, stuck to a paper towel. Stuck because of _her_.

He was looking at her, waiting for an answer that was screaming to get out but which was firmly lodged in her windpipe, making it harder to breathe.

'I can't do this anymore Hermione. Believe it or not, I do have some pride and it's taken too many hits lately. All because of you. I'm done with this maybe, maybe not shite. You need to decide what you want. I'm done trying to convince you. It's on you.' Sirius pulled on the shirt between his fingers, stretching it over his head, rolling it down his body. 'Pick.'

And then he was gone.

She sat there for a good while. Struggling to think.

Long after Rita grew quiet. Well after the music began to play.

Eventually, she stood up and did the one thing she did best.

She ran.

* * *

A/N: I have no excuse for the lateness of this update. Just... writing is hard. Thank you all for reading and please review.


	11. Sonorous

**A/N:** All my love to my wonderful beta, _TheUnrealInsomniac._ Thanks babe.

* * *

 **Pick**

Sonorous

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 _The Doobie Brothers - Give Me The Beat Boys_

* * *

 _Almost a year later..._

Days turned to nights, seasons changed and Sirius hadn't come looking for her.

It had hurt and she'd bawled her eyes out but eventually, she'd accepted the fact that she would never see him again.

After having fled, she couldn't place blame but she had anyway. Pride had always been a failing of hers and she had reluctantly accepted that while she could have called or text first- he could have too. It was a two way street after all. If Sirius had really wanted to speak to her, he would have. And so, in her self-induced impasse of a dilemma, Hermione had stubbornly not called him. It'd hurt and eventually that pain turned into anger which morphed into embarrassment and shame, settling finally on regret.

All of which were compounded by her now strained relationship with her parents.

Sirius, much to her surprise, had stuck to his promise. Though she'd signed no papers or contract, he had credited her for her lyrical contributions like he'd said he would and paid her accordingly. How he'd learnt her bank account number, she'd yet to find out. She'd simply woken up one day to a bank statement that held much bigger numbers than she was used to.

Grateful she may have been, but it'd also pissed off her parents something awful.

As soon as she'd left him on that shitty night, she'd gone straight to Godric's Hollow amidst the cameras, shouting paps and crazed fans. While they'd shouted and made their presence hard to ignore, inside her home had been far more chaotic.

There had been a screaming match, lots of crying and a couple of ultimatums.

Angry and hurting as she was, the pain rolled over and for the first time in her complacent life, Hermione stood her ground. Her mum cried. Her dad frowned. She shook where she stood, heart hammering away as she told them that, no she was not going to be a dentist.

'We'll cut you off,' her dad had "warned". 'We will not reward this behaviour Hermione Jean. We will not!'

Safe to say that it'd been a shit night. Eventually, when the crowd disappeared and before her parents had woken up, she'd fled back to London. Lav had been lovely as always. Wine had helped and once again, she'd found herself in a drunken stupor, except this time it didn't last. Not for lack of trying though- she just couldn't afford it.

Two weeks of failed job hunting later, when she was trying to budget her last few pounds, she saw the bank statement with all those numbers. When she called her bank to correct their mistake, she'd been informed that the deposit had been made by one Harry Potter for services rendered.

It'd made her feel dirty but after lots and lots of debating, and a smack on the head by Lav, she'd realised that she had no room to object.

When rent came around her mum called and when Hermione told her about the money, it'd drawn a further divide between them but by that point she'd sort of stopped caring. Which somehow pissed her mum off even more.

Eventually, she dropped out of uni and found herself a job. Travelled with the twins and Lav to the Bahamas when summer came round and signed up for a new degree in time for when uni started up again.

Somewhere along the way, she'd shagged a fair few boys and tried to forget the Marauder who's new album and songs had topped the charts.

They had literally named it _The Album_ and all the songs had been about her.

Snippets of their conversations, private moments and their secret smiles- all of them, they'd been made into lyrics and sung out to the world for them to hear. There'd been lust, longing, hurt, anger and pain in each song and though he'd never publicly confirmed it, the album had obviously been about her.

He'd written a ballad and... she'd still not heard the song in it's entirety. Toujours Pur.

 _The words were there,_ _burning my tongue_

 _unsaid and scared,_ _innocent, new_

 _because of you_

She always cried halfway through and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get through it. Worse yet, the song had been universally loved and was played everywhere which had reduced her to a blubbery little shit for a while. The crying stopped eventually but the pain hadn't. It was a bitch of a situation.

Whatever. Hermione had gotten over it. She'd accepted the fact that she had fucked up and that she'd lost her chance. It was fact and there was nothing that could be done about it so it didn't matter. Plus, she had moved on.

She'd met a fellow student and had hit it off. His name was Dean. He was tall, sweet, a gentleman and he gave great, _great_ head. Really, everything was good.

She was over the thing with Sirius. She was.

Honest. Dean was great.

 _Great._

So the fact that The Marauders were returning to London to close up their tour didn't matter. Nope. It especially didn't matter that a VIP ticket and backstage pass had magically appeared on her bed. Nope.

At. _All._

Dropping said ticket/pass, she turned about and made her way down the hall, knocking on Nev's bedroom door. Sure there was moaning and giggling coming from the room but she didn't care, she needed answers.

She didn't even blink when Neville appeared with just a towel wrapped around his waist. She pushed her friend aside, entering his room as she stared him down, completely ignoring the bloke beneath the sheets. She pointed accusatory fingers at them both equally, because she did not discriminate.

'Who?' she screeched. 'How? _Why?'_

The pitying look on his face didn't help. If anything, it pissed her off more. Something must have shown because Nev raised placating hands and guided her towards the bed, setting her down as he used his soothing voice.

'It wasn't us,' he said and that just added on to her complete and utter frustration. 'When we got here, the ticket was on the table with a sticky note that had your name on it. That's all we know. We asked the twins and they said that Tonks had dropped it off.'

She made to stand but he stopped her.

'Tonks isn't answering her door.'

Behind her, Zacharias spoke up. 'I think she's been gone all day babe and she's not returned any of our texts... and we've sent a fair few.'

He glanced at his lover before moving back towards her. 'It's fairly obvious that she's doing it on purpose.'

'How?,' she snapped.

The guys grimaced, simultaneously before looking away from her which was not at all suspicious. Hermione clenched her fists, her blood rushing in her ears. _'Well?!'_

In front of her, Nev shifted on his feet. Zach pulled the sheet tighter around his waist, looking down and away as if trying to preserve his modesty. She loved them. They were sweet and honest, both together and as individuals. They were also shit at lying. So she stayed quiet, letting the awkwardness linger and fester as she glared them down. Waiting for one of them to crack, which eventually one did.

'Tonks has been seeing Remus Lupin on and off for the past year!'

She _honest to fuck_ jolted in her seat. Back straight, heart hammering away, she turned back to Zach. 'No she hasn't.'

The brunette had been so sure, positive in her statement because obviously she would've known that but the look on their faces as soon as she'd said it... betrayal. Hot. Bitter and foul, it washed over and through her in a violent wave. Her voice lost its bravado- it's surety and she heard it, the doubt and insecurity in her every word.

'She would've told me,' Hermione said, completely uncertain as her eyes moved from one friend to the other. 'She would have.'

They'd always been good mates and they'd only grown closer these past few months. As much free time as she'd had this Spring, she'd helped the pink haired woman travel the country to display her artwork in various art galleries. Tonks would have told her. She would've. Unless...

'You were heartbroken over another Marauder love,' Nev said, casually breaking his promise to never mention and/or speak of He Who Must Not Be Named. 'Why would she?'

Because they were friends.

Because she had told her _everything._

Because she had bared her soul to the damn witch and ... and because Tonks had _seen_ how sad she'd been.

Hermione blinked away her rapidly forming tears. Remembering and recalling various conversations as they'd travelled the country.

She'd asked Tonks about her love life and the willowy woman always responded with a soft, smile. Tonks did the whole polyamorous thing so she'd assumed that that smile was aimed at a collective group of people, not for a single bloke. Much less a Marauder. And Remus Lupin at that.

It didn't make any sense.

The Wiccan had once stated that celebrities were a perfect example of what was wrong with the establishment. They represented the societal plague which emphasised money as opposed to something or other and they were at the forefront of the decay of modern civilisation because whatever.

And Remus "Moony" Lupin was all of that and more. Bloke was a poster boy for all that was wrong in the Rock 'N Roll world and Nymphadora Tonks was a free spirit who saw beauty where there was none.

Hermione blinked, frowning. Maybe... it made some sense after all.

'Are they good together?' she asked, eyes trained on the floor. Her question directed at both and neither as her mind reeled.

She licked her lips, looking up when she realised there was a lingering silence in the room. One she did not like. Neville did a weird half-shrug, half-nod thing. Zach moved behind her, bed creaking.

'It's complicated.'

Hermione nodded, determined to get to the bottom of that later. She got up, making her way past her friend when Zach's question stopped her.

'So are you going?'

'No,' she exclaimed, whipping back to look at him. 'Of course not! Why would I?'

'Because you love him.'

'What?' she laughed, damn near cried when pain slammed into her chest. 'No I don't!'

Dark brown eyes moved from one bloke to the other. Sympathy in both of their faces.

Hermione slammed her eyes shut, refusing to acknowledge their expressions.

They were wrong and as much as they wanted to believe otherwise, she'd dissected this thing over and over and knew it to be true. Sirius and her... they'd gone too fast and hard. Burned too brightly and all those cheesy quotes that spoke of philosophical truths. If they'd had more time then perhaps, one day, she would have said the words and meant them. But now, at this moment in time, she knew that there had been no love there.

Passion, absolutely. Intensity, in spades. Lust, overwhelmingly so but love? No. There hadn't been enough time for that.

'Besides,' she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. 'He wouldn't want to see me there. Not after I ran out on him like that.'

'You don't know that.'

Her eyes shot open and she turned towards Parvati who had spoken. Stood at the doorway, next to her sister and Lav, the Indian woman gave her a sad smile.

Except that she did. The way he'd looked at her that last day... she'd hurt him. Bad.

'Trust me, I do.' She laughed then and it was an unpleasant, hollow sound.

Lav spoke up. 'How do you know?'

'I just do.'

'Have you listened to the entire album?' All eyes shot towards Neville, who focused only on her. 'Honestly, have you?'

No. She hadn't. She'd only heard the songs that had made it onto singles and even then, she'd only heard snippets. The whole damn record had been unavoidable but she'd not actively sat down to give it a listen. She wasn't a fucking masochist.

She turned away from her dark haired friend and looked to Lav, who stared right back. She blinked, finding herself the centre of attention.

Hermione felt attacked. Trapped and she hated all of them just a little. She loved them but right now, they were all being wankers.

'Can we not right now?' she asked/demanded. 'The last bloody thing I need is an impromptu intervention in my flatmate's bedroom as his naked boyfriend lays in his bed, with only a small thin towel between us and his bits, thank you!'

'Makes no difference love,' Nev replied. 'You'll always be an article of clothing away from my bits.'

She nodded, shrugging because okay, yeah. Fair point that.

'I don't want to do this,' she mumbled, trying to fight back tears. 'I don't.'

And she really didn't. Just thinking about the way he'd looked at her... it made her tummy ache and her chest burn as a lump formed in her throat.

'Okay, alright,' Lavender said as she made her way next to her. 'We won't but promise us that you'll listen to the album before you decide to really not go.'

'I'm not goi-,'

 _'-PROmise_ me Hermione.'

She met her best friends eyes and reluctantly nodded. 'Only if you promise to never bring him up again.'

The gorgeous blonde took her time in agreeing but eventually she did.

* * *

The ticket was taunting her.

After having escaped Nev's room, she'd gone into her bedroom and cried herself to sleep. She'd woken an hour ago due to a headache and to the knowledge that it'd gone past one in the morning.

As soon as that bit of information crushed down on her, her eyes had drifted towards the laminated pass on her nightstand and there they'd stayed.

The album cover was printed on it. A white background with two arms at it's centre, hands outstretched and photoshopped black while the forearms had been lightened to match the stark background. The image was a simple one and one she had clearly not paid enough attention to because if she had, she would've recognised the cover art right away.

They were her hands. She was their album cover.

 _I love your hands in a completely inappropriate and perverted way, can I take photos of them?_

Sirius had loved taking pictures of her. On his mobile and when they'd been back in his home, with a slick and expensive looking camera. He'd had a talent for it and though she shouldn't have been surprised, she had been.

Hermione fiddled with her blankets, trying to calm her nerves. Logically, she knew that it meant _something_ but she didn't know what. Remembering her friends' earlier words and before she could think on it, Hermione raised her mobile and finally tapped on her screen, confirming her purchase.

 _The Album_ downloaded quickly. Much faster than she was prepared for and her heart stammered at the titles. Nauseous, she pressed play and shut her eyes to listen.

 _Whore Crux,_ the first song of the album was a slow burning tune that built into a crescendo of noise that abruptly stopped. His guitar wailed and sang, flowing with lyrics about a tired life of women and repetitive nothingness. Nothing she hadn't already known, he'd told her about it himself but hearing it in song form had been something else entirely. Hearing it suddenly end had been jarring and it'd set her on edge for the rest of the songs.

 _Hallowed,_ the first ballad in the album. It was about sex and the feeling of coming apart and together again, he'd sampled a favourite song of hers. _Blood and Mud_ , biting lyrics against an angry tune that described their fights. He'd painted a visceral image of her insecurity slowly beating him down. _Fire Whisky,_ the first single, was a song about her eyes as she glared at him, it'd been catchy and riddled with innuendos. She would've loved it if it hadn't been so obviously about her. _Hourglass Sand,_ regret and pain belted over the chorus and of how he'd wished it had all gone differently. He'd quoted her directly in that one.

On and on it went. Her eyes burning with tears, each track a bigger blow than the next until finally a familiar, pulsating tune reached her ears.

Bile rose up, burning her throat and she sat up in bed, clutching her phone as her headphones played out the one song she had fought so long to avoid.

 _Toujours Pur._

Beautifully fragile and all at once terrifying, the tone lingered in the background. His words, the chorus. Jesus _fuck_ the chorus.

He thought them pure. Eternal and untouchable because she had been the first to make him feel that way.

The song was haunting- _clawing_ and she cried and cried, finally allowing herself to feel everything she had tried so hard to deny.

The slow, rhythmic tone never wavered. Even as Remus' drums pounded in and Pete's base thrummed next to his guitar- but that pulsing tone lingered in the background. And though James' voice belted out the lyrics, it was Sirius' solo that played out all his raw pain.

She played it once more and then again. Listening to the words and dissecting their meaning.

It'd been so much more than a power ballad and Hermione laid back down, thinking. At first, there'd been hurt. Second time around, longing. On her third play, she heard acceptance and a goodbye. The words were multilayered and she licked her lips, knowing it had been done intentionally.

Hermione kept listening. More anger, more pain. All of his lyrics, a masterful weapon of choice.

 _The Veil,_ the final track. About dying to live and living to die, of going through pain to come out stronger on the other side. Returning to life and self-reflection the overall theme. The song wasn't the best of the lot, but it was the most powerful. Resolve carried the tune, the chorus a mix of hope and acceptance, the ending it's own contradiction as James' sang out that he could be all this and more if she came back to him. Unlike the first song, the tune faded out slowly, patiently. Almost obscenely.

The brunette licked her lips. Understanding simmering in her belly, hope burning her chest and she smiled as tears ran down her eyes.

All his songs... they'd been an apology.

A plea for her to come back.

She looked at the VIP pass and blinked.

She was going.

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 **A/N:** _Maybe_ two more chapters to go and we wrap this up. Thank you all reading.

Erica x


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